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THE 



History of Christianity': 



CONSISTING OF THE 



LIFE AND TEACHINGS OF JESUS OF NAZAKETH ; 



ADVENTURES OP PAUL AND THE APOSTLES; 

AND 

$|5he P^ost Interesting Buents in the ^ogtjess of (pnjistianity, 

FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD TO THE PRESENT TIME. 



BY 






JOHN S: C. ABBOTT, 
ii 

AUTHOR OF " THE MOTHER AT HOME," " LIFE OF NAPOLEON," " LIFE OF 
FREDERIC THE GREAT," ETC. 



JUN 10 18 

BOSTON : 
D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY, 

FRANKLIN ST., CORNER OF HAWLEY. 



A 6 



Copyright, 1881, 
By D. Lothrop & Company. 



£ 



TO THE MEMBERS OF 



IN FAIR HAVEN, CONNECTICUT, 

£fjts Uolumc 

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 



BY THEIR FRIEND AND PASTOR, 



JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. 



PREFACE. 



THE author of this volume has for many years, at inter- 
vals, been engaged in its preparation. It has long 
seemed to him very desirable that a brief, comprehensive, and 
readable narrative of the origin of Christianity, and of its 
struggles and triumphs, should bo prepared, adapted to the 
masses of the people. There are many ecclesiastical histories 
written by men of genius and erudition. They are, however, 
read by few, excepting professional theologians. The writer 
is not aware that there is any popular history of the extraor- 
dinary events involved in the progress of Christianity which 
can lure the attention of men, even of Christians, whose minds 
are engrossed by the agitations of busy life. 

And yet there is no theme more full of sublime, exciting, 
and instructive interest. All the heroism which the annals 
of chivalry record pale into insignificance in presence of the 
heroism with which the battles of the cross have been fought, 
and with which Christians, in devotion to the interests of 
humanity, have met, undaunted, the most terrible doom. 

The task is so difficult wisely to select and to compre*9 
within a few hundred pages the momentous events connected 
with Christianity during nearly nineteen centuries, that mere 
than once the writer has been tempted to lay aride his pen in 

6 



6 PREP AC & 

despair. Should this hook fail to accomplish the purpose 
which he prayerfully seeks to attain, he hopes that some one 
else may he incited to make the attempt who will he more 
successful. 

In writing the life of Jesus, the author has accepted the 
narratives of the evangelists as authentic . and reliahle, and 
has endeavored to give a faithful, and, so far as possible, a 
chronological account of what Jesus said and did, as he would 
write of any other distinguished personage. The same prin- 
ciple has guided him in tracing out the career of Paul and the 
apostles. 

It has not been the object of the writer to urge any new views, 
or to discuss controverted questions of church polity or the- 
ology. This is a history of facts, not a philosophical or theo- 
logical discussion of the principles which these facts may 
involve. No one, however, can read this narrative without the 
conviction that the religion of Jesus, notwithstanding the 
occasional perversions of human depravity or credulity, has re- 
mained essentially one and the same during all the centuries. 
We need no additional revelation. The gospel of Christ is 
" the power of God and the wisdom of God." In its propaga- 
tion lies the only hope of the world. Its universal acceptance 
will usher in such a day of glory as this world has never 
witnessed since the flowers of Eden wilted. 

JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

inE BIRTH, CHILDHOOD, AND EARLY MINISTRY, OF JESUS. 
Tbe Roman Empire. — Moral Influence of Jesus. — John. — The Annuncia- 
t. on. — The Birth of Jesus. — Visit of the Magi— Wrath of Herod.— 
Flight to Egypt. —Return to Nazareth. —Jesus in the. Temple. — John the 
Baptist. — The Temptation. — The First. Disciples. — The First Miracle. — 
Visit to .Jerusalem. — Nicodemus. — The Woman of Samaria. — Healing 
of the Nobleman's Son. — Visit to Capernaum. — Peter and Andrew 
called. — James and John called. — The Demoniac healed. — Tour through 
Galilee 11 

CHAPTER II. 

TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 

The Horns of Hattin. —The Sermon on the Mount. — Jesus goes to Caperna- 
um. — The Miraculous Draught of Fishes. — Healing the Leper: the Par- 
alytic. — Associates with Publicans and Sinners. — The Feast of the Pass- 
over. — The Cripple at the Pool. — The Equality of the Son with the 
Father. — Healing the Withered Hand. — Anger of the Pharisees. — The 
Twelve Apostles chosen. — Inquiry of John the Baptist. — Jesus dines 
with a Pharisee. — The Anointment. —Journey through Galilee. — Stilling 
the Tempest. — The Demoniacs and the Swine. — The Daughter of Jairus. 

— Restores Sight to the Blind. —Address to his Disciples . . . .43 

CHAPTER III. 

THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 

Infamy of Herod. — Jesiu in the Desert. — Feeds the Five Thousand. — 
Walks on the Sea. —Preaches to the People. — Visits Tyre and Sidon. — 
The Syro-Phcenician Woman. — Cures all Manner of Diseases. — Feeds 
the Four Thousand.— Restores Sight to a Blind Man. — Conversation with 
Peter. — The Transfiguration. — Cure of the Lunatic. — Dispute of the 
Apostles. — Law of Forgiveness. — Visits Jerusalem. — Plot to seize 
Jesus. — The Adulteress. — Jesus the Son of God. — The Blind Man. — 
Parable of the Good Shepherd. — Raising of Lazarus 71 

CHAPTER IV. 

LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL TO HIS DISCIPLES. 

Journey to Jerusalem. — Mission of the Seventy. — Jesus teaches his Dis- 
ciples to pray. — Lament over Jerusalem. — Return to Galilee. — The 
Second Coming of Christ. — Dangers of the Rich. — Promise to his Dis- 
ciples. — Foretells his Death. — Zacchams. — Mary anoints Jesus. — En- 
ters Jerusalem. — Drives the Traffickers from the' Temple. —The Phari- 
sees try to entrap him. — The Destruction of Jerusalem, and the Second 
Coming. — Judas agrees to betray Jesus. — The Last Supper. — The 
l*i aver of Jesus 96 

CHAPTER V. 

ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 

Anguish of Jesus. — His Prayers in the Garden. — The Arrest. — Peter's 
Recklessness. — Flight of the Apostles. — Jesus led to Annas; to Caia- 
phas. — Jesus affirms that he is the Messiah. — Frivolous Accusations. — 
Peter denies his Lord. — Jesus is conducted to Pilate. — The Examination. 

— Scourging the Innocent. —Insults and Mockery. — Rage of the Chief 
Priests and Scribes. —Embarrassment of Pilate. — He surrenders Jesus 

^ to his Enemies. — The Crucifixion. — The Resurrection. — Repeated Ap- 
pearance to his Disciples 12S 

7 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL OF TARSUS. 

The Baptism of the Holy Ghost.— Boldness of the Apostles. — Anger of the 
Kulers. — Martyrdom of Stephen. — Baptism of the Eunuch. — Saul's 
Journey to Damascus. — His Conversion. — The Disciples fear him. — His 
Escape from the City. — Saul in Jerusalem. — His Commission to the Gen- 
tiles. — The Conversion of Cornelius. — The Vision of Peter. — Persecution 
of the Disciples. — Imprisonment of Peter. — Saul and Barnabas in Antioch. 

— Punishment of Elymas. — Missionary Tour. — Incidents and Results . 143 

CHAPTER VII. 

MISSIONARY ADVENTURES. 

The First Controversy.— Views of the Two Parties. — Council at Jerusalem. 

— Results of Council. —The Letter. — Vacillation of Peter. — Rebuked by 
Paul. — The Missionary Excursion of Paul and Barnabas. — They traverse 
the Island of Cyprus. — Land on the Coast of Asia Minor. — Mark returns 
to Syria. — Results of this Tour. — Paul and Silas set out on a Second 
Tour through Asia Minor. — Cross the Hellespont. — Introduction of 
Christianity to Europe. — Heroism of Paul at Philippi. — Tour through 
Macedonia and Greece. — Character of Paul's Preaching. — Peter's De- 
scription of the Final Conflagration. — False Charges. — Paul in Athens; 

in Coriuth. — Return to Jerusalem 167 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE CAPTIVE IN CHAINS. 

The Third Missionary Tour. — Paul at Ephesus. — The Great Tumult. — The 
Voyage to Greece. — Return to Asia Minor and to Jerusalem. — ilia Re- 
ception at Jerusalem. — His Arrest, and the Riot. — Speech to the Mob. — 
Paul imprisoned. — Danger of Assassination. — Transferred to Ciesarea. — 
His Defence before Festus and Agrippa. — The Appeal to Cicsar. — The 
Voyage to Rome. — The Shipwreck. — Continued Captivity . . . . 185 

CHAPTER IX. 
TnF. FIRST PERSECUTION. 

The Population of Rome. — The Reign of Tiberius Cajsar. — Hfs Character 
and Death. — The Proposal to deify Jesus. — Caligula. — His Crimes, and 
the Earthly Retribution. — Nero and his Career.— His Crimes and Death. 

— The Spirit of the Gospel. — Sufferings of the Christians. — Testimony of 
Tacitus. — Testimony of Chrysostom. — Panic in Home. — The sins and 
Sorrows of weary Centuries. — Noble Sentiments of the Bishop of Rome . 213 

« CHAPTER X. 

ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND RAD. 

Character of the Roman Army. — Conspiracy of Otho. — Death of Galba. — 

Vitellius Emperor. — Revolt of the .lews, and Destruction of Jerusalem. — 

• Reign of Vespasian. — Character of Titus; of Domitian. — Religion of Pa- 

fan Rome. — Nerva. — Anecdotes of St. John. — Exploits of Trajan. — 
.etter of Pliny. — Letter of Trajan .231 

CHAPTER XI. 
MARTYRDOM. 

The Martyrdom of Ignatius. — Death of Trajan. — Succession of Adrian.— 
Intidel Assaults. — Celsus. — The Apology of Quadrat. — The Martyrdom 
of Symphorose and her Sons. — Character and Death of Adrian. — An- 
toninus. — Conversion of Justin Martyr. — His Apology. — Marcus Aure- 
lius. — Hostility of the Populace. — The Martyrdom of Polycarp . . s 219 

CHAPTER XII. 

PAGAN ROMF. 

Infamy of Commodus. — His Death. — The Reign of Pertinax. — The Mob of 
Soldiers. — Death of Pertinax. — Julian purchases the Crown. — Rival 
Claimants. — Severus. — Persecutions. — Martyrdom of Perpetua and Ke- 
licitas. — The Reign of Caracalla. — Kiendlike Atrocities. — Khigabalus, 
Priest of the Sun. — Death by the Mob. — Alexander and his Mother. — 
Contrast between Paganism and Christianity. — The Sin of Unbelief . . 263 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XIII. 
SIX AND MISERY. 
Maximin the Goth. — Brutal Assassination of Alexander. — Merciless Pro- 
scription. — Revolt of the Army on the Danube. — Rage of Maximin. — 
His March upon Home. — Consternation in the Capital. — Assassination of 
Maximin. — Successors to the- Throne. — Popular {suffrage unavailing.— 
Persecution under Decius. — Individual Cases. — Extent of the Roman 
Empire. — Extent of the Persecution. — Heroism of the Christians . . 280 

CHAPTER XIV. 

INVASION, CIVIL WAR, AND UNRELENTING PERSECUTION. 

JEruilianus and Valerian. — Barbaric Hordes. — Slaverv and its Retribution. 

— A ivful Fate of Valerian. — Ruin of t lit: Roman Empire. — Zenobia and 
her Captivity. — The Slave Diocletian becomes Emperor. — His Reign, 
Abdication. Death. — Division of the Empire. — Terrible Persecution.— 
The Glory of Christianity. — Characteristics of the First Three Centuries. 

— Abasement of Rome s ... 291 

CHAPTER XV. 

CONSTANTINE. — TIIE BANNER OF THE CROSS UNFURLED. 

Helena, the Christian Empress. — Constantino, her Son, favors the Chris- 
tians. — Crumbling of the Empire. — Constantino the Christian, and 
Maxentius the Pagan. — Vision of Constantino. — The Unfurled Cross. — 
Christianity favored by the Court. — Licinius defends the Christians. — 
Writings of Eusebius. — Apostasy of Licinius. — Cruel Persecution . . 303 

CHAPTER XVI. 
THE CONVERSION OF CONSTANTINE. 

The Arian Controversy. — Sanguinary Conflict between Paganism and Chris- 
tianity. — Founding of Constantinople. — The Council of Nice.— lis De- 
cision. — Duplicity of some of the Arians. — The Niceue Creed. — Tragic 
Scene in the Life of Constantine. — His Penitence and true Conversion. — 
His Baptism, and Reception into the Church. — Charles V. — The Emperor 
Napoleon 1 314 

CHAPTER XVII. 

JULIAN THE ArOSTATE. 

The Devotion of Constantino to Christianity. — Constantius and the Barba- 
rians. — Conspiracy of Magnentius. — The Decisive Battle. — Deeay. of 
Rome.— Fearful Retribution. — Xoble Sentiments of the Bishop of Alex- 
andria. — Death of Constantius. — Gallus and Julian. — Julian enthroned. 

— His Apostasy. — His Warfare against Christianity. — Unavailing At- 
tempt to rebuild Jerusalem. — Persecution. — His Expedition to the East, 
and Painful Death . . . .325 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

TnE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIAN. 

Anecdote. - Accession of Jovian. — His Character. — Christianity rein- 
stated. — Death of Jovian. — Recall ofAthanasius. — Wide Condemnation 
of Arianism. — Heroism of Jovian. — Valentinian and Valens. — Valen- 
tinian enthroned. — Valens in the East, — Barbarian Irruptions. — Reign 
of Theodosius. — Aspect of the Barbarians.— Rome captured by Alaric. — 
Character of Alaric. — His Death and Burial. — Remaikuble Statement of 
Adolplius. — Attila the Hun. — Valentinian 111. — A cadi us. — Eloqur.ice 
of Chrysostom. — His Banishment and Death. — Rise of Monasticism . 347 

CHAPTER XIX. 
THE FIFTH CENTURY. 

Christianity the only Possible Religion. — Adventures of Placidia. — Her 
Marriage with Adolplius the Goth. — Scenes of Violence and Crime. — 
Attila the Hun. — Nuptials of Idaho. — Eudoxia and her Fate. — Triumph 
of Odoacer the Goth. — Character of the Roman Nobles. —Conquests of 
Theodoric. — John Chrysostom. — The Origin of Monasticism. — Augus- 
tine. — His Dissipation. Conversion, and Christian Carppr .... Sfifl 



tine, — His Dissipation, Conversion, and Christian Career 



10 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XX. 
CENTURIES OF WAR AND WOE. 

Convulsions of the Sixth Century. — Corruption of the Church. — The Ri» 
of Monasteries. — Rivalry between Rome and Constantinople. — Moham- 
med and his Career. — His Personal Appearance. — His System of Reli- 
gion.— His Death. — Military Expeditions of the Moslems. — The Threat- 
ened Conquest of Europe. — Capture of Alexandria. — Burning of the 
Library. — Rise of the Feudal System. — Charlemagne; — Barbarian An- 
tagonism to Christianity 384 

CHAPTER XXI. 

THE DARK AGES. 

The Anticipated Second Coming of Christ. — State of the World in the Tenth 
Century. — Enduring Architecture. — Power of the Papacy. — "Vitality of 
the Christian Religion. — The Pope and the Patriarch. — Intolerance of 
Hildebrand. — Humiliation of the Emperor Henry IV. — Farewell Letter 
of Monomnqne. — The Crusades. — Vladimir of Russia. — His Introduc- 
tion pf Christianity to hia Realms. — Marriage with the Christian Princess 
Anne. — Extirpation of Paganism. — The Baptism. — The Spiritual Con- 
version of Vladimir . . 402 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE REFORMATION. 

Two Aspects of Catholicism. — Jubilee at Rome. — Infamy of Philip of 
France. — Banditti Bishops. — Sale of Indulgences. — Tetzel the Peddler. 

— The Rise of Protestantism. — Luther and the Diet at Worms. — Intoler- 
ance of Charles V. — Civil War and its Reverses. — Perfidy of Charles V. 

— Coalition against the Protestants. — Abdication and Death . . . 416 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 

Principles of the two Parties. — Ferdinand's Appeal to the Pope.— The Celi- 
bacy of the Clergy. — Maximilian. — His Protection of the Protestants. — 
The Reformation in France.— Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre. — Pro- 
posed Marriage of Henry of Navarre and Marguerite of France. — Perfidy 
of Catharine de Medici. — The Nuptials. — The Massacre of St. Bartholo- 
mew. — Details of its Horrors. — Indignation of Protestant Europe. — 
Death of Charles IX .449 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 

Character of Henry III. — Assassination of the Duke of Guise. — Cruel 
Edicts of Louis XIV. — Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. — Sufferings 
of Protestants. — Important Question. — Thomas Chalmers. — Experiment 
at St. John. — His Labors and Death. — Jonathan Edwards. — His Resolu- 
tions. — His Marriage. — His Trials. — His Death. — John Wesley. — His 
Conversion. — George Whiten* eld. — First Methodist Conference. — Death 
of Wesley. — Robert Hall. — His Character and Death. — William Paley. — 
His Works and Death. — The Sabbath. — Power of tha Gospel. — Socrates. 

— Scene on the Prairie. — The Bible 408 




History of Christianity, 



CHAPTER I. 



THE BIRTH, CHILDHOOD, AND EARLY MINISTRY, OF JESUS. 



The Roman Empire. — Moral Influence of Jesus. — John. — The Annunciation.— 
The Birth of Jesus. — Visit of the Magi. — Wrath of Herod. — Flight to Egypt. 
— Return to Nazareth. — Je.=us in the Temple.— John the Baptist. — The Temp- 
tation. — The First Disciples. — The First Miracle. — Visit to Jerusalem.— 
Nicodemus. — The Woman of Samaria. — Healing of the Nobleman's Son. -• 
Visit to Capernaum. — Peter and Andrew called. — James and John called.— 
The Demoniac healed. — Tour through Galilee. 



one now takes much interest in the history of 
the world 'before the coming of Christ. The old 
dynasties of Babylon, Media, Assyria, are but 
dim spectres s lost in the remoteness of the long- 
forgotten past. Though the Christian lingers 
with solemn pleasure over the famtly-reveakd 
scenes of patriarchal life, still he feels but little 
personal interest in the gorgeous empires which rise and dis- 
appear before him in those remote times, in spectral vision, 
like the genii of an Arabian tale. 

Thebes, Palmyra, Nineveh, — palatial mansions once lined 
their streets, and pride and opulence thronged their dwellings : 
but their ruins have faded away, their rocky sepulchres are 

11 




12 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

swept clean by the winds of centuries ; and none but a few 
antiquarians now care to know of their prosperity or adversity, 
of their pristine grandeur or their present decay. 

All this is changed since the coming of Christ. Eighteen 
centuries ago a babe was bom in the stable of an inn, in the 
Roman province of Judaea. The life of that babe has stamped 
a new impress upon the history of the world. When the child 
Jesus was born, all the then known nations of the earth were 
in subjection to one government, — that of Rome. 

The Atlantic Ocean was an unexplored sea, whose dept.Ls 
no mariner ever ventured to penetrate. The Indies had but 
a shadowy and almost fabulous existence. Rumor said, that 
over the wild, unexplored wastes of interior Asia, fierce tribes 
wandered, sweeping to and fro, like demons of darkness; and 
marvellous stories were told of their monstrous aspect and 
fiend] ike ferocity. 

The Mediterranean Sea, then the largest body cf water 
really known upon the globe, was but a Roman lake. It was 
the central portion of the Roman Empire. Around its shores 
were clustered the thronged provinces and the majestic cities 
which gave Rome celebrity above all previous dynasties, and 
which invested the empire of the Caesars witli fame that no 
modern kingdom, empire, or republic, lias been able to eclipse. 

A few years before the birth of Christ, Julius Caesar per- 
ished in the senate-chamber at Rome, pierced by the daggers 
of Brutus and other assassins. At the great victory of Rhar- 
salia, Caesar had struck down his only rival Rompey, and had 
concentrated the power of the world in his single hand. 
His nephew Octavius, the second Caesar, surnamed Augustus, 
or the August, was, at the time Jesus was born, the monarch 
of the world. Notwithstanding a few nominal restraints, he 
was an absolute sovereign, without any constitutional checks. 
It is not too much to say, that his power was unlimited. He 
could do what he pleased with the property, the liberty, and 
the lives of every man, woman, and child of more than three 
hundred millions composing the Roman Empire. Such power 
no mortal had ever swayed before. Such power no mortal 
will ever sway again. 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 13 

Fortunately for humanity, Octavius Caesar was, in the main, 
a good man. He merited tbe epithet of August. Though 
many of the vices of paganism soiled his character, still, in 
accordance with the dim light of those dark days, he endeav- 
ored to wield his immense power in promotion of the welfare 
of his people. 

Little did this Roman emperor imagine, as he sat enthroned 
in his gorgeous palace upon the Capitoline Hill, that a babo 
slumbering in a manger at Bethlehem, an obscure hamlet in 
the remote province of Syria, and whose infant wailings per- 
haps blended with the bleating of the goat or the lowing of 
the kine, was to establish an empire, before which all the 
power of the Caesars was to dwindle into insignificance. 

But so it was. Jesus, the babe of Bethlehem, has become, 
beyond all others, whether philosophers, warriors, or kings, the 
most conspicuous being who ever trod this globe. Before 
the name of Jesus of Nazareth all others fade away. Unedu- 
cated, he has introduced principles which have overthrown 
the proudest systems of ancient philosophy. By the utterance 
of a few words, all of which can be written on half a dozen 
pages, he has demolished all the pagan systems which pride 
and passion and power had then enthroned. The Boman 
gods and goddesses — Jupiter, Juno, Venus, Bacchus, Diana — 
have fled before the approach of the religion of Jesus, as fabled 
spectres vanish before the dawn. 

Jesus, the "Son of man" and the "Son of God," has in- 
troduced a system of religion so comprehensive, that ifc is 
adapted to every conceivable situation in life ; so simple, that 
the most unlearned, and even children, can comprehend it. 

This babe of Bethlehem, whose words were so few, whose 
brief life was so soon ended, and whose sacrificial death !ipon 
the cross was so wonderful, though dead, still lives and 
reigns in this world, — a monarcn more influential than any 
other, or all other sovereigns upon the globe. His empire has 
advanced majestically, with ever-increasing power, down the 
path of eighteen centuries; and few will doubt that it is des- 
tined to take possession of the whole world. 



14 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The Caesars have perished, and their palaces are in ruins. 
The empire of Charlemagne has risen, like one of those gor- 
geous clouds we often admire, brilliant with the radiance of 
the setting sun ; and, like that cloud, it has vanished forever. 
Charles V. has marshalled the armies of Europe around his 
throne, and has almost rivalled the Caesars in the majesty of 
his sway ; and, like a dream, the vision of his universal empire 
has fled. 

But the kingdom of Jesus has survived all these wrecks of 
empires. Without a palace or a court, without a bayonet or a 
sabre, without any emoluments of rank or wealth or power 
offered by Jesus to his subjects, his kingdom has advanced 
steadily, resistlessly, increasing in strength every hour, crush- 
ing all opposition, triumphing over all time's changes ; so that, 
at the present moment, the kingdom of Jesus is a stronger 
kingdom, more potent in all the elements of influence over 
the human heart, than all the other governments of the earth. 

There is not a man upon this globe who would now lay 
down his life from love for any one of the numerous monarchs 
of E-ome; but there are millions who would go joyfully to 
the dungeon or the stake from love for that Jesus who com- 
menced his earthly career in the manger of a country inn, 
whose whole life was but a scene of poverty and suffering, and 
who finally perished upon the cross in the endurance of a 
cruel death with malefactors. 

As this child, from the period of whose birth time itself is 
now dated, was passing through the season of infancy and 
childhood, naval fleets swept the Mediterranean Sea, and 
Roman legions trampled bloodily over subjugated provinces. 
There were conflagrations of cities, ravages of fields, fierce 
battles, slaughter, misery, death. Nearly all these events aie 
now forgotten ; but the name of Jesus of Nazareth grows rnoio 
lustrous as the ages roll on. 

The events which preceded the birth of Jesus cannot be bet- 
ter described than in the language of the inspired writers : — 

"There was in the days of Herod, the king of Judaea, a 
certain priest named Zacharias, of the course of Abiaj and 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 15 

liis wife was of the daughters of Aaron, and her name was 
Elisabeth. And they were both righteous before God, walk- 
ing in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord 
blameless. And they had no child, because Elisabeth was 
barren j and they both were now well stricken in years. And 
it came to pass, that while he executed the priest's office before 
God in the order of his course, according to the custom of 
the priest's office, his lot was to burn incense when he went 
into the temple of the Lord; and the whole multitude of the 
people were praying without at the time of incense. 

"And there appeared unto him an angel of the Lord, stand- 
ing on the right side of the altar of incense. And, when 
Zacharias saw him, he was troubled, and fear fell upon him. 
But the angel said unto him, Fear not, Zacharias : for thy 
prayer is heard ; and thy wife Elisabeth shall bear thee a son, 
and thou shalt call his name John. And thou shalt have joy 
and gladness, and many shall rejoice at his birth. Eor he shall 
be great in the sight of the Lord, and shall drink neither wine 
nor strong drink ; and he shall be filled with the Holy Ghost 
even from his mother's womb. And many of the children of 
Israel shall he turn to the Lord their God. And he shall go 
before him in the spirit and power of Elias, to turn the hearts 
of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wis- 
dom of the just ; to make ready a people prepared for the 
Lord. 

a And Zacharias said unto the angel, Whereby shall I know 
this? for I am an old man, and my wife well stricken in 
years. 

" And the angel, answering, said unto him, I am Gabriel, 
that stand in the presence of God, and am sent to speak unto 
thee, and to show thee these glad tidings. Arid, behold, thou 
shalt be dumb, and not able to speak, until the day that these 
things shall be performed, because thou believest not my 
words, which shall be fulfilled in their season. 

" And the people waited for Zacharias, and marvelled that 
he tarried so long in the temple. And, when he came out, he 
could not speak unto them. And they perceived that he had 



16 niSTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

seen a vision in the temple ; for he beckoned unto them, and 
remained speechless. And it came to pass, that, as soon as the 
days of his ministration were accomplished, he departed to his 
own house. And, after those days, his wife Elisabeth con- 
ceived, and hid herself five months, sajang, Thus hath the 
Lord dealt with me in the days wherein he looked on me to 
take away my reproach among men. 

" And in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from 
God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, to a virgin 
espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of 
David; and the virgin's name was Mary. And the angel 
came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favored; 
the Lord is with thee : blessed art thou among women. And, 
when she saw him, she was troubled at his sajang, and cast in 
her mind what manner of salutation this should be. And the 
angel said unto her, 

" Fear not, Mary ; for thou hast found favor with God. 
And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth 
a son ; and thou shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be 
great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the 
Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David; 
and he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of 
his kingdom there shall be no end. 

" Then said Mary unto the angel, How shall this be, seeing 
I know not a man ? 

"And the angel answered and said unto her, The Holy 
Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest 
shall overshadow thee: therefore, also, that holy thing that 
shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God. A.td, 
behold, thy cousin Elisabeth, she hath also conceived a son in 
her old age ; and this is the sixth month with her who was 
called barren. For with God nothing shall be impossible. 

" And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord : be 
it unto me according to thy word. And the angel departed 
from her." 1 

Elisabeth was at that time residing in what was called th6 

* j,u&e i. 5-38. 






CBlLDHOOb AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 17 

° liill-country " of Judsea, several miles south of Jerusalem. 
Mary was in Galilee, the extreme northern part of Palestine. 
" A nd Mary arose in those days, and went into the hill-coun- 
try with haste, into a city of Juda ; and entered into the 
house of Zacharias, and saluted Elisabeth. And it came to 
pass, that, when Elisabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the 
babe leaped in her womb ; and Elisabeth was filled with the 
Holy Ghost ; and she spake out with a loud voice, and said, 

" Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit 
of thy womb. And whence is this to me, that the mother of 
my Lord should come to me ? for, lo ! as soon as the voice 
of thy salutation sounded in mine ears, the babe leaped in my 
womb for joy. And blessed is she that believed ; for there 
shall be a performance of those things which were told her 
from the Lord. 

"And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my 
spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For he hath regarded 
the low estate of his handmaiden ; for, behold, from hence- 
forth all generations shall call me blessed. For he that is 
mighty hath done to me great things ; and holy is his name. 
And his mercy is on them that fear him from generation to 
generation. He hath showed strength with his arms; he 
hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. 
He hath put down 'the mighty from their seats, and exalted 
them of low degree. He hath filled the hungry with good 
things, and the rich he hath sent empty awaj^. He hath 
holpen his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy ; as he 
spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed forever/ 7 

" Now, the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise : When 
as his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came 
together, she was found with child of the Holy Ghost. Then 
Joseph her husband, being a just man, and not willing to make 
her a public example, was minded to put her away privily. 
But, while he thought on these things, behold, the angel of the 
Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thon son of 
David, fear not to take unto theG Mary thy wife ; for that 
which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. And she 

2 



IS HISTORY OP CHRISTIANITY. 

shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name Jesus : 
for ho shall save his people from their sins. 

" Now, all this was done that it might he fulfilled which 
was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Behold, a 
\irgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and 
they shall call his name Emmanuel ; which, being interpreted, 
is God ivith us. 1 

"Then Joseph, being raised from sleep, did as the angel of 
the Lord had bidden him, and took unto him his wife ; and 
knew her not till she had brought forth her first-born son." 

Mary, upon her visit to Elisabeth, remained with her about 
three months, and then returned to Nazareth. Upon the birth 
of John, he was taken on the eighth day to be circumcised. 
His father, who still remained dumb, wrote that he should be 
called John. To the surprise of his friends, speech was then 
restored to him. These remarkable events were extensively 
noised abroad. "And all they that heardthem laid them up 
in their hearts, saying, What manner of child shall this 
be?" 

In the year of Borne 450, the Emperor Caesar Augustus 
ordered a general census of the population of Palestine to be 
taken, that he might, with exactitude, know the resources of 
the province. The Jewish custom had long been, that a man 
should be registered in his birthplace instead of that of his 
residence. During the months of January and February of 
that year, all the narrow pathways of Judaea were crowded by 
cavalcades of those who were seeking their native places to be 
registered according to this decree. 

Among these lowly pilgrims there were two, Joseph and 
Mary, from the obscure village of Nazareth. Toiling along 
through the ravines of Galilee, over the plains of Samaria, and 
across the hill-country of Judaea, they continued their journey, 
until, at the end of the fourth day, they entered the little vil- 
lage of Bethlehem, about five miles south of Jerusalem. 

So many travellers had entered the village before them, that 
there was no room left in the inn. Perhaps even the stable 

* Isa. vil. 14. 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OP JESUS. 10 

taight have been refused, had not the woman's condition ap- 
pealed to the heart of the inn-keeper. But there she and hei 
husband found a place to rest. 

Outside of the village stretched the plains, where, hundreds 
of years before, David watched his father's flocks. On the same 
hill-slopes shepherds tended their sheep still. It was appar- 
ertly a serene and cloudless night. Suddenly there appeared 
in the heavens, descending from amidst the stars, the form of 
an angel. The simple-minded shepherds gazed upon the won- 
derful spectacle with alarm. The angel, radiant with heaven's 
light, addressed them, saying. — 

" Fear not ; for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great 
joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this 
day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. 
And this shall be a sign unto you : Ye shall find the babe 
wrapped in swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger." 

As these words were uttered, the babe was born; and imme- 
diately" there appeared a va^t multitude of the heavenly host, 
— the retinue which had accompanied the celestial visitant 
from heaven to earth. Such a band never before met mortal 
ej'es. With simultaneous voice they sang, while the melody 
floated over the silent hills, " Glory to God in the highest; and 
on earth peace, good-will toward men." 

The voice of prophecy had announced, ages before, that the 
long-expected Messiah should be born in Bethlehem. Seven 
hundred years had passed since the prophet Micah wrote, — 

"And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, art not the 
least among the princes of Juda; for out of thee shall come a 
Governor that shall rule my people Israel." x 

The angels disappeared, and the heavenly depths resumed 
their accustomed calm. But the scene and the Avords sank 
deep into the hearts of the shepherds, who believed without 
questioning this wonderful announcement. The time foretold 
by the prophets — had it truly come ? Was the long watch- 
ing of the true-hearted Jew really at an end ? 

Making haste in the eagerness of their hope, the shepherds 

i Mic. v. 2. 



20 msTORt of cHttistiAiriT?. 

went to Bethlehem, and found Mary, Joseph, and the babe 
lying in the manger. Having this corroboration of the angels' 
words, they told to all whom they met the marvellous scene 
which they had witnessed. All wondered ; for it was not thus 
that they had expected the Messiah to come. But Mary, the 
mother, kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart. 

Although the birth of Jesus was thus heralded by a choir 
of angels, it seems not to have been universally recognized 
that the Messiah had come. The evidence is abundant, from 
passages taken from both Roman and Jewish writers, that 
there was a general expectation at the time, throughout the 
East, that some one was soon to be born in Judaea who would 
rule the world. The ideas prevailing respecting the nature of 
his reign were extremely vague. Tacitus, Suetonius, Zoroaster, 
all allude to this coming man, whose advent had been so mi- 
nutely foretold in the sacred writings of the Jews. 

The Persian priests, or Magi, were among the most learned 
men of those times. Whatever of science then was known was 
inseparably blended with religion. Astrology and astronomy 
were kindred studies. The Persian Magi were surprised hy the 
appearance of a star, or meteor, of wonderful brilliancy. They 
interpreted it as a sign that the long-expected Messiah was 
born. As they approached the meteor, it moved before them. 
A deputation of their number was appointed to follow it. It 
led them to Judaea. They then began eagerly to inquire 
where the child was born. Herod the king heard these strange 
tidings. He trembled from fear that this prophetically-an- 
nounced Messiah would assume kingly power, and eject him 
from his throne. In great anxiety he sent for the most ap- 
proved interpreters of the Bible, and inquired of them if the 
prophets had announced the place in which the Messiah should 
be born. They replied that the place was Bethlehem, citing 
in proof the prediction of the prophet Micah. Herod, having 
determined to take the life of the child, called the Magi before 
him, and directed them to go immediately to Bethlehem, and, 
as soon as they had found the young child, to report to him, 
saying that he wished to worship him also. 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 21 

The meteor, which had led them from the plains of Persia, 
and which had perhaps, for a time, vanished, re-appeared, 
and went before them till it came and stood over where the 
young child was. After paying the divine babe the tribute of 
their homage and adoration, instead of returning to Herod 
with the information, admonished by God, they departed by an 
unfrequented route to their own country. 

The infamous king, thus baffled, in his rage sent officers 
to put to death all the children in the city of Bethlehem and 
its vicinity who were two years of age and under. He sup- 
posed that in that number the infant Jesus would surely be 
included. But Joseph, warned by God in a dream, escaped by 
night with Mary and the babe into Egypt, about forty miles 
south of Bethlehem. There the holy family remained for 
several months, until the wretched Herod died, devoured by 
a terrible disease. But, as his son Archelaus ascended the 
throne vacated by Herod, Joseph did not deem it safe to return 
to Judaea, but, by a circuitous route, found his way back to the 
obscure hamlet of Nazareth, buried among the mountains of 
Galilee. Here, we are informed, " the child grew, and waxed 
strong in spirit, filled with wisdom ; and the grace of God was 
upon him." 

Before the flight into Egypt, all the ceremonies enjoined by 
the Mosaic law upon the birth of a child of Jewish parents 
were strictly observed. At the presentation of the babe in tho 
temple, the aged Simeon, then the officiating priest, recognized 
him as the long-looked-for Messiah. Anna too, the prophetess, 
gave thanks to the Lord for him. 

After these scenes, a veil is dropped over the child-life of 
Jesus. It is lifted but once, when, at the age of twelve, the 
child attended his parents to Jerusalem. Being separated 
from Joseph and Mary in the crowd, they sought anxiously 
for him, and found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of 
the doctors, hearing them, and asking them questions. All 
who heard the questions and the answers of the child were 
amazed at his wisdom. To the tender reproof of his mother, 
he answered as though the meaning of his life were just begin- 



22 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

nir.g to dawn upon him : " How is it that ye sought me ? Wist 
ye not that I must be about my Father's business ? " 

His parents did not understand him ; but he returned with 
tli em to Nazareth. Here among the hills of Galilee, in a 
village so obscure that its name is not mentioned in the Old 
Testament, the youthful years of Jesus passed unnoticed away 
until he had attained the age of thirty. According to the 
Jewish law, a man could not take upon himself priestly duties 
until he was thirty years old. Not until then was he consid- 
ered to have obtained that maturity of character which would 
warrant him in assuming the office of a teacher, or which 
would enable him to realize the sacredness of the priestly call- 
ing. No record of these years is given us, save that contained 
in the declaration, "And Jesus increased in wisdom and 
stature, and in favor with God and man." 

John the Baptist, forerunner of Jesus, seems to have passed 
through very different youthful discipline from that of Him 
whom he was to herald. Jesus spent his childhood and early 
manhood, so far as we are informed, in the seclusion of that 
domestic life which is common to man. Nurtured in its sweet 
simplicity, he learned from experience the trials and cares of 
humanity in its lowliest condition. 

John, forsaking these tranquil scenes of domestic life, fled 
into the desert, and, in the most dreary solitudes, prepared 
for his momentous ministry. The last of the prophets, 
" greater was not born of women than he." The place he 
chose for his preparation was one of desolate grandeur. The 
borders of the desert reached the barren, verdureless banks of 
the Dead Sea. All signs of life were lost in a region appar- 
ently cursed by the frown of God. The heavy waters of the 
Uke lay motionless, and the mountains of Moab rose beyond 
21 their severe and rugged sublimity. 

Yet here John dwelt, that he might ponder the meaning of 
Axe Scripture prophecies, so as to be able to expound them with 
power when the time should come for him to address the peo- 
ple. Here he was impressed with the enormity of sin against 
God, and the hopelessness of the sinner, unless a higher power 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 23 

came to liis rescue. Here God revealed to his soul the doc- 
trine of repentance and remission of sins through faith in an 
atoning Saviour, — " the Lamb slain from the foundation of the 
world," — the Lamb so often slain in symbolic sacrifice, but 
now to appear and sulicr in his own sacred person. 

When the time of preparation was completed, the word of 
God came to John, summoning him to his work. Emergin g from 
his life of solitude, he traversed all the country round about 
Jordan, crying out in trumpet-tones, which collected thousands 
to listen to him, "Pepent ye ; for the kingdom of heaven is at 
hand." The new prophet, humble in his own sotJ, as the truly 
great alwa} r s are, disclaimed all title to the Messiahship, de- 
claring that One was coming mightier than he, the latchet of 
whose shoes he was unworthy to unloose. When the multi- 
tude, impressed by his figure, his character, and his words, in- 
quired of him, "Art thou the Christ?" he replied emphati- 
cally, ° I am not." — "Art thou Elias, then ?" was the continued 
query. The reply was equally emphatic, " No." — " Who art 
thou, then ? " they further inquired. He replied, " I am the 
voice of one crying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of 
the Lord ; make his paths straight." 

A leathern girdle encircled the loins of this wonderful man. 
His frugal fare consisted of locusts and wild honey. John 
stood by the Biver Jordan, baptizing those who presented them- 
selves for the rite. Jesus, then about thirty years of age, ap- 
peared among them. Since his twelfth year, no act of his had 
been recorded. But now, according to the Jewish idea of 
maturity, he was prepared to enter upon his ministry. John 
doubtless had not seen him for many years. Probably he had 
never known that he was the Christ. But, when that pure 
and holy One came to be baptized, the eyes of the prophet 
were opened, and he hesitated, saying, "I have need to hi 
baptized of thee; and comest thou to me ?" But Jesus com- 
mands, and John performs the rite. Then the faithful pro- 
phet is rewarded by seeing the heavens opened, and the Spi .it 
of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon the brow of 
Jesus. A voice at the same time was heard from the se .ene 



24 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

skies, exclaiming in clear utterance, "This is my beloved. 
Son, in whom I am well pleased." 

Then John was filled with fulness of assured joy, as he says, 
" I knew him not ; " meaning, of course, that, before the per- 
formance of the rite, he had not known Jesus as the Messiah 
The following day, John pointed out Jesus to two of his dis- 
ciples as the "Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of 
the world." 

Soon after this came the period of our Lord's temptation, 
over which our hearts are moved with wonder and tender com- 
passion. Son of God as he was in his spiritual nature, in the 
humiliation of his earthly mission he had also become Son 
of man. Sinless from his birth, the taint of evil had never 
touched his pure soul. Yet a higher nature than even this 
was necessary before he could redeem the people from their 
sins. There was needed in his human nature a knowledge of 
the power of evil, which could only be obtained through suf- 
fering its temptations. 

How else could he truly sympathize with and succor those 
who are tempted? Oh holy mystery of the temptation of £he 
Son of God ! — a mystery so sacred and unfathomable, that we 
can only bow our hearts in adoration, knowing that we have 
now a -high priest who can be touched with the feeling of 
our infirmities, — one who " was in all points tempted like as 
we are, yet without sin." 

It is impossible to ascertain with certainty the chronology 
of our Saviour's movements. But, following that which is 
generally most approved, we infer that Jesus returned from the 
temptation in the wilderness to Nazareth, where he sojourned 
for a short time. John had publicly announced Jesus to bo 
the Messiah, in the words, " Behold the Lamb of God, which 
taketh away the sin of the world ! " Jesus was thus declared to 
be the atoning Lamb, which for so many centuries had been 
represented by the sacrifices offered under the law. 

Among the crowd who had flocked to the wilderness to hear 
the impassioned preaching of John there were two fishermen, 
who became convinced that Jesus was the long-promised 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 25 

Christ. The first of these, Andrew, hastened to inform his 
brother Simon Peter that he had found the Messiah. These 
two were apparently our Saviour's first disciples. Probably 
their views of the nature of his mission were exceedingly 
vague. They, however, attached themselves to his person, and 
followed him. Jesus received them kindly, but without any 
parade. At the first glance he seems to have comprehended 
the marked character of Simon Peter; for he addressed him 
in language in some degree prophetic of his future career : 
"Thou art Simon, the son of Jona: thou shalt be called 
Cephas ; which is, by interpretation, a stone." Cephas was 
the Syriac for Peter. 

The next day two others attached themselves to Jesus, — 
Philip and Nathanael. Then, as now, the moment one became 
a disciple of Jesus, he was anxious to lead others to him. 
Philip, who had accepted the invitation of Christ to follow him, 
sought out one of his friends, Nathanael, and said to him, 
" We have found him of whom Moses in the law, and the 
prophets, did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph." 
Nathanael was a little doubtful whether the son of the car- 
penter Joseph, from the obscure hamlet of Nazareth, could be 
the heaven-commissioned Messiah for whose advent the pious 
Jews had been praying during weary centuries. Incredulously 
he inquired, "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" 
The laconic reply of Philip was, " Come and see." 

It appears that Nathanael was a man remarkable for his up- 
right and noble character. As Jesus saw him approaching, he 
said to those around him, "Behold an Israelite indeed, in 
whom is no guile ! " Nathanael, overhearing the remark, in- 
quired of him, " Whence knowest thou me ? " The reply of 
Jesus, " Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under 
the fig-tree, I saw thee," — thus alluding to some secret event 
which Nathanael was sure no mortal could know, — convinced 
him of the supernatural powers of Jesus ; and he exclaimed in 
fulness of faith, "Babbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art 
the King of Israel ! " 

The reply of Jesus was a distinct avowal of his Messiahship : 



26 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

4 ' Because I said unto thee, I saw thee under the fig-tree, 
believost thou ? Thou slialt see greater things than these. 
Hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of God 
ascending and descending upon the Son of man." 

Jesus, strengthened, not exhausted, by his temptation in the 
wilderness, returned to Nazareth. In the mystery of his 
double nature as Son of God and Son of man, the mission of 
his life seems now to have been fully revealed to him. He 
then commenced preaching his gospel of penitence for sin, faith 
in him as a Saviour, and a holy life. 

Not with words of denunciation did he open his ministry. 
Tenderly he bore with the doubts and questionings, which led 
many to hesitate to acknowledge him as the long-looked-for 
Messiah. Sympathy and healing for body and soul were the 
first messages of our Lord. The hard, stern outlines of the 
Jewish law were softened, yes, glorified, b} r the spiritual mean- 
ing infused into them by Jesus. Sent to preach the gospel to 
the poor, and to bind up the broken-hearted, he addressed the 
desponding in words of encouragement and cheer, while he did 
not abate one iota of the integrity and authority of the law. 

A few miles north of Nazareth, slumbering among the hills 
of Galilee, was the little village of Cana. A marriage was 
celebrated there on the third da}' after the return of Jesus from 
the wilderness. He was invited to the wedding, with his 
mother and the disciples who had accompanied him to Naza- 
reth. The fame of Jesus was rapidly extending, and the 
knowledge of his expected presence probably drew an unex- 
pected number to the wedding. Consequently, the wine, sim- 
ple juice of the grape, usually provided on such occasions, was 
found to be insufficient. The mother of Jesus informed him 
with some solicitude that the wine was falling short. It would 
appear that he had anticipated this; for his reply, "What have 
I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come," may be inter- 
preted, " It is not necessary for you, mother, to be anxious about 
this : the time for me to interpose is not 3^et come." That 
time soon came, — probably when the wine was entirely ex- 
hausted. The anxious, care-taking mother understood this to 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 27 

mean that he would, at the proper time, provide for the emer- 
genc} r ; for she went to the servants, and requested them to do 
whatever Jesus should ask of them. 

In the court -yard there were six stone firkins, or jars, about 
two-thirds the size of an ordinary barrel, containing about 
thirty gallons each. Jesus ordered the servants to till them with 
water. Surprised, but unhesitatingly they obeyed. He then 
directed them to draw from those firkins, and present first to 
the governor of the feast. To their amazement, pure wine 
filled their goblets, — wine which the governor of the feast de- 
clared to be of remarkable excellence. This was the first mira- 
cle which is recorded of our Saviour. There is no evidence 
that there was the slightest intoxicating quality in this pure 
beverage thus prepared for the wedding-guests. 

Soon after this, Jesus went to Capernaum, a thriving sea- 
port town upon the western shores of the Lake of Galilee, 
about twelve miles north-east of Nazareth. His mother, his 
brothers, — who did not accept his Messiahship, — and his disci- 
ples, — we know not how many in number, — accompanieddiim. 
We have no record of his doings during the few days that he 
remained there. As the feast of the Passover was at hand, 
Jesus went up to Jerusalem, there to inaugurate his ministry 
in the midst of the thousands whom the sacred festival would 
summon to the metropolis. A few of his disciples accom- 
panied him. Their journey was undoubtedly made on foot, a 
distance of about a hundred miles. 

Upon their arrival, Jesus directed his steps immediately to 
the temple, probably then the most imposing structure in the 
world. The sight which met his view as he entered the outer 
court-yard of the temple with his humble Galilean followers 
excited his indignation. The sacred edifice had been perverted 
to the most shameful purposes of traffic. The booths of the 
traders lined its walls. The bleating of sheep and the lowing 
of oxen resounded through its enclosures. The litter of the 
stable covered its tessellated floors, and the tables of money- 
changers stood by the side of the magnificent marble pillars. 
The din of traffic filled that edifice which was erected for the 
worship of God. 



28 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Jesus, in the simple garb of a Galilean peasant, and with- 
out any badge of authority, enters this tumultuous throng. 
Picking up from the floor a few of the twigs, or rushes, ho 
bound them together ; and, with voice and gesture of authority 
whose supernatural power no man could resist, " he drove them 
all out of the temple, and the sheep and the oxen ; and poured 
ou; the changers' money, and overthrew the tables; and said 
unto them that sold doves, Take these things hence : make 
not my Father's house a house of merchandise." 

No one ventured any resistance. The temple was cleared 
of its abominations. There must have been a more than 
human presence in the eye and voice of this Galilean peasant, 
to enable him thus, in the proud metropolis of Judaea, to drive 
the traffickers from all nations in a panic before him, while 
invested with no governmental power, and his only weapon 
consisting of a handful of rushes ; for this seems to be the 
proper meaning of the words translated "a whip of small 
cords." 

The temple being thus cleared, some of the people ventured 
to ask of him by what authority he performed such an act. 
His extraordinary reply was, " Destro}^ this temple, and in three 
days I will raise it up." There is no evidence that there was 
any thing in the voice or gesture of Jesus upon this occasion 
which implied that he did not refer to the material temple 
whose massive grandeur rose around them. It is certain that 
his interrogators so understood him : for they replied, " Forty 
and six years was this temple in building ; and wilt thou rear 
it up in three days ? " 

The evangelist John adds, " But he spake of the temple of 
I) is body." We have no intimation that Jesus attempted to 
rectify the error into which they had fallen. And it is diffi- 
cult to assign any satisfactory reason why he should have left 
them to ponder his dark saying. Human frailty is often be- 
wildered in the attempt to explicate infinite wisdom. 

Probably the fame of Jesus had already reached Jerusa- 
lem. His wonderful achievement, in thus cleansing the tem- 
ple, must have excited universal astonishment. Many were 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESVS. 29 

inclined to attach themselves to him as a great prophet. There 
was at that time residing in Jerusalem a man of much 
moral worth, by the name of Nicodemus. He was rich, was 
in the highest circles of society, a teacher of the Jewish law, 
and a member of the Sanhedrim, the supreme council of the 
nation. 

Pie sought an interview with Jesus at night, that he might 
enjoy uninterrupted conversation, or, as is more probable, 
because he had not sufficient moral courage to go to him 
openly. In the following words he announced to Jesus his 
full conviction of his prophetic character: "Rabbi, we know 
that thou art a teacher come from God; for no man can do 
these miracles that thou doest except God be with hun." 

Jesus did not wait for any questions to be asked. With 
apparent abruptness, and without any exchange of salutations, 
he said solemnly, as if rebuking the assumption that he, the 
Lamb of God, had come to the world merely as a teacher, 
" Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, 
he cannot see the kingdom of God." 

Nicodemus ought to have understood this language. The 
" new birth " was no new term, framed now for the first time. 
The proselytes from heathenism, having been received into 
the Jewish fold by circumcision and baptism, in token of the 
renewal of their hearts, were said to be " born- again." Jesus, 
adopting this perfectly intelligible language, informed ISficode- 
mus that it was not by intellectual conviction merely that one 
became a member of the Messiah's kingdom, but by such a ren- 
ovation of soul, that one might be said to be born again, — old 
things having passed away, and all things having become new. 
Nicodemus, who perhaps, in pharisaic pride, imagined that 
he had attained the highest stage of the religious life, was proba- 
bly a little irritated in being told that he needed this change 
of heart to gain admission -to the kingdom of God ; and, in his 
irritation, allowed himself in a very stupid cavil. " How can 
a man/' said he, "be born when he is old? Can he enter the 
second time into his mother's womb, and be born ? " 

Jesus, ever calm, did not heed the cavil, but simply reiter* 



SO BlSTOlit OF CBttlSTlAiflTY. 

ated his declaration, that no man could become a member of 
the kingdom of God, unless, renewed in the spirit of his mind, 
he thus became a partaker of the divine nature. Nicodenius 
probably assumed that he, as a Jew, would be entitled by 
right of birth to membership in the kingdom of the Messiah. 
When a Gentile became a proselyte to the Jewish religion, by 
the rite of baptism lie promised to renounce idolatry, to wor- 
ship the true God, and to live in conformity with the divine 
law. The external rite gradually began to assume undue im- 
portance. Our Saviour, in announcing to Nicodemus the 
doctrine that a spiritual regeneration was needful, of which 
the application of water in baptism was merely the emblem, 
said, "Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he 
cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That which is born 
of the flesh is flesh," — is corrupt: "that which is born of 
the Spirit is spirit," — is pure. "Marvel not that I said unto 
thee, Ye must be born again." 

And then, in reply to queries which he foresaw were rising 
in the mind of Nicodemus, he continued: "The wind bloweth 
where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst 
not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every 
one that is born of the Spirit." This sublime truth is thus 
enunciated without an} r attempt at explanation. Why is one 
man led by the Holy Spirit to the Saviour, while another, cer- 
tainly no less deserving, is not? This question has been 
asked through all the ages, but never answered. Where is 
the Christian who has not often said, — 

" Why was I made to hoar thy voice, 
And enter while there's room, 
When thousands make a wretched choice, 
And rather starve than come ? " 

Infinitely momentous as are these truths, they are the most 
simple truths in nature. Nothing can be more obvious to an 
observing and reflective man than that a thorough renovation 
of spirit is essential to prepare mankind for the society of 
spotless angels and for the worship of heaven. This is one 



C8ILD800D AND EARL? MINISTRY OF JESUS. 31 

of the most simple and nidi mental of moral truths. And 
when Nicodemus, with the spirit of cavil still lingering in his 
mind, allowed himself to say, "How can these things he?" 
Jesus gently rebuked him, saying, "'Art thou a master of 
Israel, and knowest not these things? If I have told you 
earthly things," — the simplest truths of religion, obvious to 
every thoughtful man, — "and ye believe not, how shall ye be- 
lieve if I tell you of heavenly things?" — the sublime truths 
which can only be known by direct revelation. 

Jesus then proceeds from the simple doctrine of regeneration 
to the subiimer theme of an atoning Saviour, — a theme the 
most wonderful wnich the mind of man or angel can contem- 
plate. There cannot be found in all the volumes of earth a 
passage so full of meaning, in import so stupendous, as the few 
words which then came from the Saviour's lips. It was the 
distinct and emphatic announcement of the plan of salvation 
devised by a loving Father in giving his Son to die upon the 
cross, in making atonement for the sins of the world. 

"No man hath ascended up to heaven but he that came 
down from heaven ; even the Son of man, which is in heaven. 
And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so 
must the Son of man be lifted up; that whosoever believeth 
in him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God 
so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that 
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever- 
lasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to 
condemn the world, but that the world through him might be 
saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned ; but lie 
that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not 
believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God. And 
this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, 
and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds 
were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, 
neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved; 
but he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds 
may be made manifest that they are wrought in God." 

It does not appear that even this enunciation fro id the lips 



82 MisTdRt op cnnisTumTt. 

of Jesus, of the sublime doctrines of regeneration and atone- 
ment, produced any immediate result upon the heart of Nicode-- 
mus. That they produced a deep impression upon his mind 
cannot be doubted. Not long after, when there was intense 
commotion in Jerusalem in consequence of the teachings of 
Jesus, Nicodemus summoned sufficient moral courage to speak 
one word in his defence. " Doth our law,' 7 said he, "judge any 
man before it hear him and know what he doeth ? " But he 
seems to have been effectually silenced by the stern rebuff, " Art 
thou also of Galilee ? " We hear no more of this timid man, 
until after the lapse of three years, when Jesus bad perished 
upon the cross, Nicodemus brought to Joseph of Arimathea 
some spices to embalm the body. This, also, he probably did 
secretly and by night. How contemptible does such a char- 
acter appear — one too cowardly to live according to its own 
convictions of duty — when contrasted with such men as 
Abraham, Noah, Daniel, and Paul ! And yet there is many 
a Nicodemus in almost every village in our land. 

Soon after this, Jesus left Jerusalem, and went into the rural 
districts of Judaea, where he preached his gospel, and his disci- 
ples baptized, and by this rite received to the general Church 
such as became converts. John the Baptist was then preaching 
to large assemblies in Samaria, in a place called iEnon, about 
twenty miles west of the B-iver Jordan, and about sixty miles 
north from Jerusalem. This place, though among the hills, 
was well watered with springs and streams, and thus well 
adapted for the vast numbers who gathered to hear this re- 
nowned preacher. 

Jesus and his d'sciples were in Judaea, in the vicinity of 
Jerusalem, probably about forty miles south of John. Some 
of the zealous disciples of John became annoyed in hearing 
that larger crowds were flocking to Jesus than to him; that 
Jesuo was making many converts, and that his disciples were 
actually baptizing more than were the disciples of John. But 
the illustrious prophet did not share in their feelings of envy. 
In words worthy of his noble character he replied, — 

"Ye yourselves bear me witness that I said I am not the 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 33 

Christ, but that I am sent before him. He must increase ; 
but I must decrease. He that cometh from above is above 
all; for he whom God hath sent speaketh the words of God. 
The Father loveth the Son, and hath given all things into his 
hand. He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life ; 
and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life, but the 
wrath of God abideth on hiin." 

Jesus, being informed of the spirit of rivalry: which existed 
on the part of John's disciples, decided to withdraw from that 
region, and return to Galilee. His direct route led through 
the central district of Samaria. There was a bitter feud be- 
tween the inhabitants of Judaea and Samaria, so that there 
was but little social intercourse or traffic between them. The 
road led first over barren plains as far as Bethel ; then traversed 
a region of undulating hills smiling with verdure, till it be- 
came lost in a winding mountain-pass quite densely wooded. 
On the third day of the journey, Jesus, toiling on foot beneath 
the scorching sun of Syria, reached Sychar, in the heart of 
Samaria. About a mile and a half from the village, at the 
foot of Mount Gerizim, there was a celebrated well, which 
the patriarch Jacob had dug several centuries before. Jesus 
sat down by the well to rest, while his disciples, who accom- 
panied him, went into the village to purchase some food. 
While seated there alone, a Samaritan woman came to draw 
water. Jesus said to her, " Give me to drink." His dress 
and language indicated that he was a Jew. 

The woman replied, " How is it that thou, being a Jew, 
askest dr'nk of me, which am a woman of Samaria ? " 

"If thou knewest," said Jesus, "the gift of God, an 5 who 
it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink, thou wouldest have 
asked of him, and he would have given thee living water." 

To this enigmatical reply, which evidently aroused the at- 
tention of the woman, she rejoined, " Thou hast nothing to 
draw with, and the well is deep. From whence, then, hast thou 
that living water ? Art thou greater than our father Jacob, 
which gave us the well, and drank thereof himself, and his 
children and his cattle ? " 
s 



34 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Again Jesus replied in enigmatical language, " Whosoever 
drinketh of this water shall thirst again : but whosoever 
drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst ; 
but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of 
water springing up into everlasting life." 

The woman, bewildered, and with excited curiosity, said, 
" Sir, give me this water, that I thirst not, neither come hither 
to draw." 

" Go, call thy husband," said Jesus, " and come hither." 

The woman, conscience-smitten, and somewhat alarmed by 
the mysterious nature of the conversation, answered, " I have 
no husband." 

The startling response of Jesus was, " Thou hast well said, 
I have no husband : for thou hast had five husbands ; and 
he whom thou now hast is not thy husband. In that saidst 
thou truly." 

The woman, alarmed, and anxious to withdraw the conver- 
sation from her own sins and personal duty, sought, as half- 
awakened sinners have ever endeavored to do from that day 
to this, to change the theme into a theological discussion. 

" Sir," she said, " I perceive that thou art a prophet. Our 
fathers worshipped in this mountain; and ye say that in 
Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship." 

This question was a standing controversy between the Jews 
and the Samaritans. "Believe me," Jesus replied, "the hour 
cometh when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at 
Jerusalem, worship the Father. Ye worship ye know not what : 
we know what we worship ; for salvation is of the Jews. But 
the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall 
worship the Father in spirit and in truth; for the Father 
seeketh such to worship him. God is a Spirit ; and they that 
worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." 

The Samaritans rejected vthe prophets, and received only the 
five books of Moses. Jesus therefore announced that the Jew- 
ish, not the Samaritan faith, was the true religion ; while at 
the same time he declared that external forms were important 
only as they promoted and indicated holiness of heart. 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 35 

The woman replied, " I know that Messias cometh, which 
is called Christ. When he is come, he will tell us all things." 

Her astonishment must have "been great when Jesus re- 
joined, " I that speak unto thee am he." 

The conversation was here interrupted hy the return of the 
disciples who had gone into the village. Though surprised in 
seeing Jesus engaged in earnest conversation with the Samar- 
itan woman, they asked him no questions upon the subject ; 
but the woman, so agitated that she forgot to take her water-' 
pot with her, hurried back to the village, saying to her friends, 
in language somewhat exaggerated, " Come see a man which 
told me all things that ever I did. Is not this the Christ ? " 

Quite a crowd of Samaritans were soon gathered around the 
well. In the mean time, the disciples besought Jesus to par- 
take of the refreshments which they had brought from the 
village. His remarkable reply was, — 

"I have meat to eat that ye know net of. My meat" 
(the great object of my life) " is to do the will of Him that 
sent me, and to finish his work. Say net ye, There are yet 
four months, and then cometh harvest ? Behold, I say unto 
you, Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields ; for they are 
white already to harvest. And he that reapeth receiveth wages, 
and gathereth fruit unto life eternal, that both he that soweth and 
he that reapeth may rejoice together. And herein is that say- 
ing true, One soweth, and another reapeth. I sent you to reap 
that whereon ye bestowed no labor : other men labored, and ye 
have entered into their labors." 

It is probable that Jesus went from the well into the village 
or city of Sychar ; for he continued in that region for two days, 
preaching the glad tidings of the kingdom of God. The re- 
sult-was, that many more believed, and said unto the woman, 
"Now we believe, not because of thy saying; for we have 
heard him ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, 
the Saviour of the world." 

Continuing his journey, Jesus proceeded still northward 
to Galilee. The fame of his words and of his works wa3 
spreading far and wide. As he travelled, he entered the syna- 



36 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY* 

gogues of the villages, and preached his gospel probably to 
large crowds. Popularity accompanied his steps ; for. we are 
informed by the sacred historian, " he taught in their syna- 
gogues, being glorified of all." 

Upon reaching the province of Galilee, he repaired to Cana, 
where his first miracle was performed. His name was now 
upon all lips ; and, wherever he appeared, crowds were attracted. 
About twelve miles north-east from Cana, upon the shores of 
the Lake of Galilee, was the city of Capernaum. A noble- 
man there, of high official rank, had a son dangerously sick. 
Hearing of the arrival of Jesus in Cana, and fully con- 
vinced of his miraculous powers, he hastened to him, and en- 
treated him to come down and heal his son. Immediately upon 
the application of the nobleman, appreciating the faith he thus 
exhibited, he said, " Go thy way : thy son liveth." Apparent- 
ly untroubled with any incredulity, the nobleman set out on 
his return. Meeting servants by the way, they informed him 
that his son was recovering. Upon inquiry, he learned that 
his convalescence commenced apparently at the very moment 
in which Jesus assured him of his safety. In consequence 
of this second miracle in Galilee, the nobleman and all his 
family became disciples of Jesus. 

From Cana, Jesus went to the home of his childhood and 
youth, in Nazareth, which was but a few miles south of Cana. 
It is probable that his reputed father, Joseph, was dead, as we 
have no subsequent allusion to him; and that there was no 
home in Nazareth to welcome the wanderer. Upon the sabbath 
day, according to his custom, he repaired to the synagogue. 
Taking the Bible, he opened to the sixty-first chapter of Isaiah, 
and read those prophetic words of the promised Messiah which 
had been written nearly seven hundred years before : — 

" The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord 
hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek : he 
hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty 
to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are 
bound ; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord." 

He closed the book, returned it to the officiating minister, 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 37 

and sat down upon the raised seat from which it was custom- 
ary for the Jewish speakers to address the audience. The 
eyes of all were fastened upon him. 

" This day," said Jesus, " is this scripture fulfilled in your 
ears." It was universally understood that this passage from 
the prophet referred to the Messiah. Thus he solemnly an- 
nounced to his astonished fellow-citizens of Nazareth that he 
was the Son of God, whose coming the pious Jews had, 
through so many centuries, been expecting. It is evident 
that the tidings of his career were already creating great 
excitement in Nazareth. 

"All- bare witness," writes the inspired historian, "and 
wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of his 
mouth. And they said, Is not this Joseph's son ? 

" And he said unto them, Ye will surely say unto me. this 
proverb, Physician^ heal thyself: whatsoever we have heard 
done in Capernaum, do also here in thy country. And he 
said, Verily I say unto you, No prophet is accepted in his own 
country. But I tell you of a truth, many widows were in 
Israel in the days of Elias, when the heaven was shut up three 
years" and six months, when great famine was throughout all 
the land ; but unto none of them was Elias sent, save unto 
Sarepta, a city of Sidon " (a Gentile city), " unto a woman 
that was a widow" (a Gentile woman). "And many lepers 
were in Israel in the time of Eliseus the prophet ; and none 
of them was cleansed saving Naaman the Syrian." 

This declaration, that God regarded Gentiles as well as Jews 
with his parental favor, roused their indignation. The inspired 
historian records, "And all they in the synagogue, when they 
heard these things, were filled with wrath, and rose up, and 
thrust him out of the city, and led him unto the brow of the 
hill whereon their city was built, that they might cast him 
down headlong ; but he, passing through the midst of them, 
went his way." 

It is not known whether a miracle was performed at this 
time to disarm the mob, or whether the infuriated populace were 
overawed bv the natural dignity of his demeanor, and by th§ 



38 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

sacredness winch began to be attached to his person as the 
reputed Messiah. It was a case similar to that which occurred 
when he cleansed the temple. 

Jesus, upon this occasion, took his text from the Bible, and 
commented upon it. The text and a few of his remarks have 
been alone transmitted to us. There is a rocky cliff which 
extends for some distance along the hill on which Nazareth is 
built, which is still thirty or forty feet high, notwithstanding the 
accumulated debris of eighteen centuries, which was undoubt- 
edly the scene of this transaction. 

John the Baptist was now cast into prison. His work as 
the forerunner of Christ was accomplished. Eight months of 
our Lord's ministry had passed away. On the eastern shore 
of the Dead Sea there was an immense fortress called Ma- 
chserus. Built on a crag, surrounded by gloomy ravines, and 
strengthened by the most formidable works of military engine- 
ry then known, it was deemed impregnable. Here the des- 
pot Herod had shut up John the Baptist as a prisoner. 
Weary months rolled away as the impetuous spirit of the 
prophet beat unavailiugly against the bars of his prison. 
Though a prophet, the whole mystery of the Messiah's king- 
dom had not been revealed to him. With great solicitude, 
apparently with many doubts and fears, he watched the career 
of Jesus, so inexplicable to human wisdom. 

Jesus, rejected with insult and outrage by the people of ISTaz 
areth, repaired td Capernaum, on the shores of the lake. This 
body of water, so renowned in the life of Jesus, is the only 
sea referred to in the gospel history. It is alike called the 
" Sea of Galilee," the " Sea of Tiberias," and "Lake Gennes- 
aret." In Capernaum he took up his residence for a time, 
" preaching the gospel of the kingdom of God ; " that is, preach- 
ing the glad tidings of full and free remission of sins through 
faith in him as the Messiah, and his coming kingdom. " The 
time," said he, predicted by the prophets, " is fulfilled, and the 
kingdom of God is at hand. Repent ye, and believe the gos- 
pel/'* 



CHILBROOB^ AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 39 

Walking one day on the shores of the lake, he met Simon 
Peter and his brother Andrew, engaged in their occupation as 
fishermen. It will he remembered that they had met Jesus 
before, at the time of his baptism by John, and had become 
convinced that he was the Messiah. On some of his journey- 
ings they had accompanied him. But they had not, as yet, 
permanently attached themselves to his person. He said to 
them, " Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." 
Their unwavering faith in him is manifest from the fact, that 
leaving their boat and their net, and their earthly all, in their 
humble garb of fishermen they followed him. 

Continuing the walk along the water's edge, they met 
two other young fishermen, also brothers, James and John. 
They were sitting upon the shore with their father Zebedee, 
mending their net. Jesus called them also to follow him ; 
which they promptly did, leaving their father behind them. 
Jesus had selected them to be preachers of his gospel ; and 
they were to be with him, that, listening to his addresses, they 
might learn the doctrines which they were to preach. 

Accompanied by these four disciples, Jesus returned into the 
city of Capernaum ; and probably the next day, it being the 
sabbath, he entered the synagogue, and addressed the people. 
We have no record of his address. Mark simply informs us 
that he " taught ; and they were astonished at his doctrine ; for 
he taught them as one that had authority, and not as the 
scribes." * Luke says, " His word was with power." 2 

Among the crowd assembled there was a man possessed of 
a devil. He startled the whole assembly by shouting out, 
" Let us alone ! What have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of 
Nazareth ? Art thou come to destroy us ? I know thee 
whom thou art, the Holy One of God." 

"Accepting, with whatever mystery the whole subject of 
demoniac possession is clothed, the simple account of the 
evangelists, it does, appear most wonderful, — the quick intel- 
ligence, the wild alarm, the terror-stricken faith, that then per- 
vaded the demon world, as if all the spirits of hell who had 
i Mark i. 22. .* Luke iy. 32. 



40 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

"been suffered to make human bodies their habitation grew 
pale at the very presence of Jesus, and could not but cry out 
in the extremity of their despair." * 

Jesus turned his mild, commanding eye upon the demoniac, 
and calmly said, " Hold thy peace, and come out of him." The 
foul spirit threw the man to the ground, tore him with convul- 
sions, and, uttering a loud, inarticulate, fiendlike cry, departed. 
The man rose to his feet, serene and happy, conversing with 
his friends in his right mind. All were seized with amazement. 
The strange tidings ran through the streets of the city. The 
fame of such marvels spread rapidly far and wide. " What new 
thing is this ? " was the general exclamation ; " for with author- 
ity he commandeth the unclean spirits, and they do obey him." 

The mother of Simon Peter's wife was taken sick with a 
violent fever. Jesus, being informed of it, visited her bedside, 
took her gently by the hand, and rebuked the fever. The dis- 
ease, as obedient to his command as was the foul spirit, imme- 
diately left the sufferer. The cure was instantaneous and 
complete. She arose from her couch, and returned at once to 
her household duties. 

It is difficult to imagine the excitement which these events 
must have produced. Upon the evening of that memorable 
day, the region around the house was thronged with the mul- 
titude, bringing unto him all that were sick with divers dis- 
eases. " And he laid his hands on every one of them, and 
healed them. And devils also came out of many, crying out, 
and saying, Thou art Christ, the Son of God. And he, re- 
buking them, suffered them not to speak ; for they knew that 
he was Christ." 2 

It is impossible for us to comprehend the nature of the 
union of God and man in the person of Jesus. The sacred 
historian, in announcing that God " was made flesh and dwelt 
among us," makes no attempt to solve this mystery. But it 
seems that Jesus, though possessed of these miraculous pow- 
ers, was so exhausted by the labors and excitements of the 

i Life of Christ by William Hanna, D.D., p. 19& 
2 Luke iv. 40, 



CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MINISTRY OF JESUS. 41 

day, that, long before the dawn of the morning, he rose from 
his bed, and, leaving the slumbering city behind him, retired 
to a solitary place, where, fanned by the cool breeze of the 
mountain and of the lake, he spent long hours in prayer. 

Peter and his companions, when they rose in the morning, 
missed Jesus. It was not until after a considerable search 
that he was found in his retreat. They informed him of the 
great excitement which pervaded the city, and that the- people 
were looking for him in all directions. But Jesus, instead of 
returning to Capernaum to receive the adulation which await- 
ed him there, said, "Let us go into the next towns, that I may 
preach there also. I must preach the kingdom of God to 
other cities ; for therefore came I forth." 

In the mean time, some of the people had found him ; 
and they began to gather around him in large numbers. They 
entreated him to return to the city, and take up his residence 
with them ; but he declined, and at once entered upon a labo- 
rious tour through the cities and villages of Galilee, " teach- 
ing in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the 
kingdom, and healing all manner of sicknesses and all manner 
of diseases among the people." 

Though these deeds were done in Galilee, the extreme 
northern province of Syria, still the fame of them spread 
rapidly through the whole country. " And they brought unto 
him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and 
torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those 
which were lunatic, and those that had the palsy ; and he 
healed them. And there followed him great multitudes of 
people from Galilee, and from Decapolis, and from Jerusalem, 
and from beyond Jordan." 

Galilee was at that time very densely inhabited by an ener- 
getic and bustling population of about three millions. It was 
about sixty miles in length, and forty in breadth ; containing, 
according to Josephus, two hundred and four towns and vil- 
lages, whose average population was fifteen thousand. Through 
this region, Jesus, accompanied by a few of his disciples, 
entered upon a pedestrian tour. The lake was thirteen miles 



42 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

long, and six broad. Its shores were dotted with villages lux- 
uriant in culture, and the waters of the lake were covered 
with the boats of fishermen. 

JSTow all is silent there, lonely and most desolate. Till last 
year, but a single boat floated upon its waters. On its shores, 
Tiberias in ruins, and Magdala, composed of a few wretched 
hovels, are all that remain. You may ride round and round 
the empty beach, and, these excepted, never meet a human 
being, nor pass a human habitation. Capernaum, Chorazin, 
Bethsaida, are gone. Here and there you stumble over ruins ; 
but none can tell you exactly what they were. They knew 
not, those cities of the lake, the day of their visitation. Their 
names and their memory have perished. 

The number of sick people whom Jesus healed on this cir- 
cuit must have been immense; for he traversed a wide and 
populous region, and patients were brought to him from great 
distances; and he healed them all. One cannot but regret 
that we have no minute record of the events which transpired 
and of the addresses which Jesus made on this missionary 
excursion, which commenced, it is supposed, in June, and was 
closed early in October. 



CHAPTER II. 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 



The Horns of Hattin.— The Sermon on the Mount.— Jesus goes to Capernaum. 
— The Miraculous Draught of Fishes. — Healing the Leper, the Paralytic. — 
Associates with Publicans and Sinners. — The Feast of the Passover. — The 
Cripple at the Pool. — The Equality of the Son with the Father. — Healing the 
Withered Hand. — Anger of the Pharisees. — The Twelve Apostles chosen. — 
Inquiry of John the Baptist. — Jesus dines with a Pharisee. — The Anoint- 
ment. — Journey through Galilee. — Stilling the Tempest. — The Demoniacs 
and the Swiue. — The Daughter of Jairus. —Restores Sight to the Blind.— 
Address to his Disciples. 



BOUT seven miles south of Capernaum there was 
a double-peaked eminence, fifty or sixty feet high, 
which commanded a charming view of the Valley 
of Gennesaret. These peaks were called the 
Horns of Hattin, from the village of Hattin, 
situated at the base of the hill. As Jesus, upon 
his return from his first circuit through Galilee, 
approached Capernaum, when the throng which accompanied 
him, or flocked out of the city to meet him, had become im- 
mense, he probably ascended this hill, from which he could easily 
address them. For ages it has been called, on that supposi- 
tion, the "Hill of the Beatitudes." 

It must have presented a charming scene. The smooth 
and grassy hill rose 'from a landscape luxuriant with verdure, 
draped with vineyards, and rich in the autumnal hues of 
harvest. The waters of the lake sparkled in the sunlight, and 
the distant horizon was fringed with towering mountains. 
Jesus sat upon the summit of the hill : his avowed disciples 

*3 




44 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

gathered affectionately around: the multitude, presenting a 
sea of upturned faces, thronged the grassy slopes. 

It was then and there that Jesus delivered that Sermon on 
the Mount, which, by universal admission, is the most memo- 
rable discourse ever uttered by human lips. Probably in a 
voice which penetrated the remotest ear, he enunciated those 
sublime truths, which, for eighteen centuries, have echoed 
through human hearts, and which will continue thus to echo, 
with ever-increasing power, until the names of the last con- 
flagration shall envelop our globe. 

He first announced the conditions of entrance into the new 
kingdom of God. Its gates were to be open to the lowly in 
heart; to those weeping over their own unworthiness, and 
hungering and thirsting for righteousness. Those qualities 
which were most despised by Jewish pride and pharisaic self- 
righteousness were the ones upon which God looked with love 
and a blessing. 

He then declared the law of the kingdom of God, showing 
that, instead of abrogating the old covenant, it did but re-estab- 
lish its principles, and supplement its imperfections, by carry- 
ing moral obligations beyond all external observances, into the 
inner regions of the heart. 

With amazement this motley assemblage must have listened 
to announcements so contrary to the whole spirit of the age ; 
as, — 

u Love your enemies. Bless them that curse you. Whoso- 
ever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other 
also. Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute 
you, and shall say all manner of evil against you, for my sake. 
Be ye therefore perfect even as your Father which is in heaven 
is perfect, that ye may be the children of your Father which 
is in heaven ; for he maketh his sun to shine upon the evil 
and the good, and sendeth his rain upon the just and upon 
the unjust." 

The parade of alms-giving, ostentatious devotion, and the 
display of fastings and prayers, are severely denounced. And, 
jn this connection^ Jesus gave that sublime formula of pravej 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 45 

which has compelled the admiration even of his foes, and 
which for beauty and comprehensiveness can find no parallel 
in the literature of the world : — 

" Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. 
Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth as it is in 
heaven. Give us, this day, our daily bread. And forgive us 
our debts as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into 
temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, 
and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen." 

In this wonderful discourse each statement is but an annun- 
ciation of truth, bearing with it its own evidence. There is 
no labored argument, no attempt to prove his doctrine. The 
assumption seemed to be, that no honest mind could refuse its 
assent to these truths. With such divine majesty he gave 
utterance to these sublime principles, that it is recorded, " The 
people were astonished at his doctrine ; for he taught them as 
one having authority, and not as the scribes." 

From the mount, Jesus directed his steps towards Caper- 
naum, followed by a great multitude still eager to hear the 
word of God. When he reached the shore of the lake, the 
crowd became so dense as to impede his steps. There were 
two boats by the shore, their owners being at a little distance 
washing their nets. One of these belonged to Simon Peter. 
To avoid the pressure, Jesus entered the boat, and requested 
Peter to push out a little from the land. From the boat, sur- 
veying the vast throng upon the shore, he again addressed 
them ; but we have no record of the words he spoke. It is 
uncertain whether Peter accompanied Jesus on this his first 
tour through Galilee. At the close of the discourse, Jesus re- 
quested Peter to launch out a little farther into the deep, and 
let down his net. Peter slightly remonstrated, saying, "Master, 
we have toiled all night, and have taken nothing : neverthe- 
less, at thy word, I will let down the net." He did so, and a 
miraculous draught of fishes was enclosed, so that the net brolre, 
and it was necessary to call for assistance from another bokt. 
Two boats were so filled with the fishes, that they began to 
sink. Simon Peter was so impressed by this miracle, that lie 



46 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

fell upon his knees at the feet of Jesus, exclaiming, a Dupart 
from me, for I am a sinful man, Lord ! " 

"If Peter," writes E,. Mimpriss, "had returned to his 
worldly occupation through the fear of being in want, as fol- 
lowing One who had not where to lay his head, he must have 
felt confounded at this reproof of his own unfaithfulness in 
being so plentifully supplied by his Lord when unable to pro- 
vide any thing for himself in his own way. Peter seems to 
have been powerfully impressed, not only with the miracle, but 
al^o with his own unworthiness as a disciple." 

Jesus compassionates the weakness of his impulsive disci- 
ple, and replies, "Fear not : henceforth thou shalt catch men." 
James and John were with Peter, and witnessed this transac- 
tion. They all were convinced that it was folly to doubt that 
Jesus had divine power to make suitable provision for all who 
were in his service. This faith brought forth immediate fruit 
in corresponding wcrks. " They forsook all, and followed 
him." 

Approaching the city, Jesus encountered a leper. The scene 
which ensued cannot be more forcibly described than in the 
graphic language of Mr. Lyman Abbott : — 

" In its worst forms, leprosy is alike awful in its character, 
and hideous in its appearance. For j^ears it lurks concealed 
in the interior organs. Gradually it develops itself: spots of 
red appear upon the skin, chiefly the face ; the hair of the 
brows and lids and beard begins to fall off ; the eyes become 
fierce aud staring ; the voice grows hoarse and husky, and is 
finally quite lost ; the joints grow stiff, refuse to fulfil their 
office, and drop off one by one ; the eyes are eaten from their 
sockets. The patient, strangely insensible to his awful condi- 
tion, suffers an apathy of mind that is scarcely less dreadful 
than the condition of his body. 

" Universally regarded as suffering a disease as virulent in 
its contagion as in its immediate effects, the leper was shunned 
as one whose fetid breath bore pestilential poison in it. Uni- 
versally regarded as bearing in his body the special marks 
of divine displeasure for intolerable sin ; his sufferings awoke 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 47 

no sympathy, but only horror. From the moment of the first 
clearly-defined symptoms, the wretched man was deliberately 
given over to death : he was an outcast from society. No 
home could receive him. Wife and children might not minister 
to him. Wherever he went, he heralded his loathsome presence 
by the cry, ' Unclean, unclean ! ' 

"Men drew one side to let him pass. Mothers snatched 
their children from before his path. To touch him — the horror- 
stricken Jew would sooner suffer the kiss of an envenomed 
serpent. No one ever thought to proffer succor to a leper ; no 
physician ever offered him hope of health ; no amulets could 
exorcise this dread visitation. A special token of the wrath 
of God, only God could cure it : only repentance of sin and the 
propitiation of divine wrath could afford a remedy. No hand 
ever bathed the leper's burning brow, or brought the cooling 
draught for his parched lips. None ever spoke a word of sym- 
pathy to his oppressed heart. Society had built no hospitals 
for the sick, no lazarettos even for its own protection; and 
the leper, driven from the towns, dwelt in dismantled dwellings, 
or in caves and clefts of the rock, solitary, or in the wretched 
companionship of victims as wretched as himself. 

" One of these unhappy sufferers had heard of the fame of 
Jesus. He believed, with the hope sometimes born of despera- 
tion, in the divine power of this new prophet ; and nought 
but divine power could give him relief. He disregarded alike 
the law which excluded him from the city and the horror he 
must face to enter it, and broke through all restraints to 
implore the word of healing from this inheritor of the power 
of Elijah. The crowd heard his cry, ' Unclean, unclean!' 
and opened in superstitious dread to give him passa'ge through. 
He cast himself at the feet of Jesus with the outcry of de- 
spairing imploration, ' Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me 
clean.' The people had looked on him only with horror. 
Jesus was moved with compassion. They had drawn back 
that they might not receive the contagion of his garments. 
Jesus put forth his hand to touch him. They had echoed his 
cry, ' Unclean ! ' Jesus said, ' I will : be thou clean.' And, in 



48 BISTORT OP CHRISTIANITY. 

the instant of that speaking, the leper felt the burning fever 
depart, and a new fresh blood, healed at its fount, course through 
his veins." * 

Jesus directed the man to go directly to the priest, in ac- 
cordance with the provisions of the Mosaic law, and to obtain 
from him the official testimony that he was cured, and relief 
from the ban which was laid upon him as a leper. This he 
was to do immediately, before the priest could learn that it was 
Jesus who had healed him ; otherwise the priest might refuse 
through prejudice to testify to the reality of the cure. 

A miracle so wonderful increased the excitement which had 
already attained almost the highest pitch. Such crowds nocked 
after Jesus, that he found it necessary to withdraw from the 
city, and seek a retreat in " desert places." Still the multitude 
nocked to him from every quarter. Luke, speaking of this his 
retirement, says, " He- withdrew himself into the wilderness, 
and prayed." It is worthy of special observation how much 
time Jesus spent in prayer. 

After' devoting several days in this retreat to solitude and 
devotion, Jesus, in whose character the serious, thoughtful, pen- 
sive temperament so wonderfully predominated, returned to 
Capernaum. The tidings spread rapidly throughout the city. 
An immense concourse soon thronged the street on which the 
house was situated which he had entered. Jesus addressed 
the vast concourse, — the door-sill, perhaps, his pulpit, the over- 
arching skies his temple, and his audience a motley assemblage 
crowding the pavements. Proud Pharisees and self-conceited 
doctors of the law had come, drawn from the surrounding 
cities to the spot by the fame of Jesus. 

While Jesus was speaking, some men brought a paralytic 
patient on a couch to be healed. But the concourse was so 
dense, that they could not force their way through to iiis feet. 
The roof of the house was flat, surrounded by a battlement, to 
prevent any one from falling oif. By a back way they entered 
the house, ascended to the roof, broke away a portion of the 
battlement, and with cords lowered the man on his couch down 
before Jesus. Palsy is often the result of an intemperate life, 
1 Jesus of Nazareth, p. 178. 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 4§ 

of sinful habits : it is not improbable that it was so in this 
case. In healing the leper, Jesus had merely said, in the ex- 
ercise of his own divine power, " I will : be thou clean." Now, 
in the exercise of that same divine power, he assumed the pre- 
rogative of forgiving sin. 

" When Jesus saw their faith, he said unto the sick of the 
-palsy, Son, thy sins be forgiven thee." 

The Pharisees and the doctors of the law, offended sfi this 
assumption, said one to another, " Who is this who spe&keth 
blasphemies ? Who can forgive sins but God only ? 

"Jesus, knowing their thoughts, said, Wherefore think 
ye evil in your hearts ? For whether is easier to sav, Thy 
sins be forgiven thee ? or to say, Arise and walk ? But that ye 
may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive 
sins (then saith he to the sick of the palsy), Arise, take up 
thy bed, and go unto thine house. Immediately he arose, took 
up the bed, and went forth before them all." 

The amazed people exclaimed, " We have seen strange things 
to-day!" 

Leaving the thronged city, Jesus, who seems ever to have 
cherished a great fondness for the country, went out to some fa- 
vorite spot upon the shore of the lake ; but the excited multitude 
followed him. As they were leaving the city, Jesus saw a man 
named Matthew, also called Levi, the son of Alpheus, sitting at 
the door of a custom-house, where he was collecting the taxes 
which were levied by the Roman government. The tax-gath- 
erer was exceedingly unpopular with the Jews. No intimation 
is given us respecting the character of Matthew, or whether he 
had previously manifested any interest in Jesus. But, for some 
reason, Jesus deemed him worthy of being called as one of his 
apostles. The fact is announced in the brief words, " And he 
saith unto him, Follow me ; and he left all, rose up, and fol- 
lowed him." 

Matthew took Jesus to his house, and invited some of his 
old friends, several of whom were tax-gatherers, and others not 
of religious repute, to meet him at a feast. It would seem 
that there was a pretty large party ; for it is recorded, — 

4 



50 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

" Many publicans and sinners sat also together with Jesus 
and his disciples ; for there were many." 

The scribes and Pharisees were very indignant that Jesus 
should associate with persons of such character. Jesus, hear- 
ing of their fault-finding, replied,* — 

" They that are whole need not a physician, but they that 
are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to 
repentance." 

He then, by the forcible illustrations of the " new cloth on 
an old garment " and " new wine in old bottles," showed that 
the rigorous observances of the old dispensation were not 
adapted to the freedom and privileges of the new. 

The time for the feast of the Passover had come ; and Jesus, 
with his disciples, took a second journey to Jerusalem. There 
was a pool at Jerusalem called Bethesda, which, in the popular 
estimation, had at a certain season of the year great medicinal 
virtues. At such times, large numbers, suffering from every 
variety of disease, were brought to the pool. Jesus saw a man 
there who had been utterly helpless, from paralysis probably, 
for thirty-eight years. He was poor and friendless. Sympa- 
thetically Jesus addressed him, inquiring, " Do you wish to be 
made whole ? " The despairing cripple replied, " Sir, I have 
no one, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool ; 
but, while I am coming, another steppeth down before me." 
Jesus said to him, " Eise, take up thy bed, and walk." Imme- 
diately the man was made whole. 

It was the sabbath. The sanctimonious Pharisees, watch- 
ing for some accusation of Jesus, when they saw the rejoicing 
man in perfect health, carrying the light mattress upon which 
he had reclined, in an absurd spirit of cavilling accused him 
of violating the holy day by carrying a burden. He replied, 
that the one who had cured him had directed him to do so. 
Upon their inquiring who it was who had given him such di- 
rections, he could only reply that he did not know. It appears 
that Jesus, immediately after performing the miracle, had 
withdrawn. 

Soon after this, Jesus met the man in the temple. It is 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 51 

probable that his disorder had been brought on by intemper- 
ance and vice ; for Jesus, addressing him, said, " Behold, thou 
art made whole : sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto 
thee." The news of this miracle rapidly spread. The Phari- 
sees denounced Jesus severely, assuming that he was breaking 
the sabbath. Jesus had performed this miracle in his own 
name, as by his own power. His remarkable reply to their 
accusation was, " My Father worketh hitherto, and I work." 
This astounding assertion implied his equality with God the 
Father. " As my Father," he says, " carries on the works of 
providence on the sabbath, so I, his Son, have an equal right 
to prosecute my labors." The Jews were so indignant at this 
assumption, that they formed a plot to slay him, " because he 
not only had broken the sabbath, but said also that God was 
his Father, making himself equal with God." 

Jesus did not deny the accuracy of their inference, but re-en- 
forced it by declaring in still stronger terms his unity with the 
Father : " Yerily I say unto you, The Son can do nothing of 
himself but what he seeth the Father do; for what things 
soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise. For the 
Father loveth the Son, and showeth him all things that himself 
doeth. And he will show him greater works than these, that ye 
may marvel. For as the Father raiseth up the dead, and quick- 
eneth them [gives them life], even so the Son quickeneth whom 
he will. For the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed 
all judgment unto the Son; that all men should honor the 
Son even as they honor the Father. He that honoreth not the 
Son, honoreth not the Father which hath sent him. 

" Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, 
and believeth on Him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and 
shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death 
unto life. Verily, verily, I say unto you, The hour is coming, 
and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of 
God; and they that hear shall live. For as the Father hath 
life in himself, so hath he given to the Son to have life 
in himself ; and hath given him authority to execute judgment 
also, because he is the Son of man. Marvel not at this ; for 



52 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

the hour is coming in the which all that are in the graves shall 
hear his voice, and shall come forth ; they that have done good 
unto the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil 
unto the resurrection of damnation. I can of mine own 
self do nothing. As I hear, I judge ; and my judgment is 
juat ; because I seek not mine own will, but the will of the 
Father which hath sent me." 

The remainder of this remarkable discourse we must here 
omit for want of space. We are not informed what impression 
ifc produced upon his auditors. Soon after this, Jesus, accom- 
panied by some of his disciples, in the vicinity of Jerusalem, 
was passing, on the sabbath, through a field of grain. By an 
express statute, any one could pluck a handful of the standing 
wheat as he passed. His disciples, being hungry, plucked the 
ears, rubbed out the kernels in their hands, and ate them. The 
cavilling Pharisees, ever watching for some offence, again com- 
plained that Jesus was encouraging the violation of the sab- 
bath. Jesus improved the opportunity to show that the laws 
of God were intended for the benefit of man ; that David and 
his followers, when hungry, ate of the show-bread, and were 
blameless ; that the priests in the temple did not violate the 
sabbath in performing a large amount of labor required by 
their services. They might reply, " You are no priest, and 
your work is not for the benefit of the temple." This objec- 
tion was met by the very remarkable statement, that Jesus was 
Lord of the temple : — 

" But I say unto you, That in this place is one greater than 
the temple. But, if ye had known what this meaneth, I will 
have mercy, and not sacrifice, ye would not have condemned 
the guiltless. For the Son of man is Lord even of the sabbath 
day." 

These were astounding declarations for even the most 
exalted prophet to make, — that he was the Son of God ; that 
he came forth from the Father; that whatever the Father 
could do, he could do ; that all men were bound to honor him . 
even as they honored the Father. 

Eeturning to the city, Jesus entered the synagogue. It 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 53 

was the sabbath day, and the building was doubtless thronged, 
as, wherever Jesus now appeared, the multitude followed. It 
is manifest that the masses of the people were in sympathy 
with him, though the self-righteous Pharisees and the doctors 
of the law sought for an opportunity of bringing forward such 
accusations as should turn the tide against him. In the 
synagogue there was a man with a withered hand, who had 
doubtless come hoping to find Jesus and to be cured. The 
Pharisees watched him, to see if he would, as they deemed it, 
or pretended to deem it, violate the sabbath by doing a work 
of healing upon that day. Jesus, knowing their thoughts, 
called upon the man to rise up and stand forth in a conspicu- 
ous place in the presence of the whole congregation. Then, 
turning to the Pharisees, he said, — 

" I will ask you one thing : Is it lawful on the sabbath 
days to do good, or to do evil ? to save life, or to destroy it ? " 
Apparently, without waiting for an answer, he added, — 

" What man shall there be among you that shall have one 
sheep, and, if it fall into a pit on the sabbath day, will he not 
lay hold on it and lift it out ? How much, then, is a man better 
than a sheep ? Wherefore it is lawful to do well on the sabbath 
days." 

This unanswerable argument, of course, carried with it the 
convictions of the masses of the people. The Pharisees were 
exasperated. Jesus, instead of assuming an air of triumph, 
or even feeling it, in his inmost soul was saddened by the 
malignant spirit displayed by his adversaries. " Being grieved 
for the hardness of their hearts, he saith unto the man, Stretch 
forth thine hand ; and he stretched it out, and his hand was 
restored whole as the other." 

The Pharisees were so enraged in being thus baffled, that 
they went out and entered into a conspiracy with the parti- 
sans of the infamous Herod to put him to death. Jesus, 
who "knew their thoughts," quietly withdrew, and, leaving 
Judaea, returned to Galilee. As he travelled invariably on 
foot, it was a journey, through the whole breadth of Samaria, 
of several days. It is remarkable that no record of this jour- 



54 HISTORY OF- CHRISTIANITY. 

ney is given us, though Jesus was unquestionably healing the 
sick and preaching the gospel all the way. We are simply 
informed by Mark, — 

"A great multitude from Galilee followed him, and from 
Judaea, and from Jerusalem, and from Idumaea, and from 
beyond Jordan; and they about Tyre and Sidon, a great 
multitude, when they had heard what great things he did, 
came unto him." 

When they reached the shores of the . Sea of Galilee, the 
throng became so great, that Jesus, to avoid the pressure of 
the crowd, entered " a small ship," or boat, and pushed out a 
little from the shore; "for he had healed many, insomuch 
that they pressed upon him for to touch him, as many as had 
plagues. And unclean spirits, when they saw him, fell down 
before him, and cried, saying, Thou art the Son of God ! " 

From the tumult of these exciting and exhausting scenes, 
Jesus escaped to the solitude of a mountain near by, where, 
alone, he " continued all night in prayer to God." 1 In the 
morning he called his disciples to him, and, after these long 
hours of prayer, " of them he chose twelve, whom he named 
apostles. And he ordained twelve, that they should be with 
him, and that he might send them forth to preach, and to have 
power to heal sicknesses and to cast out devils. Now, the names 
of these twelve apostles are these : Simon, who is called Pe- 
ter, and Andrew his brother; James the son of Zebedee, 
and John his brother ; Philip and Bartholomew ; Thomas, and 
Matthew the publican ; James the son of Alphaeus, and 
Lebbseus, whose surname was Thaddseus ; Simon the Canaan- 
ite, and Judas Iscariot, who also betrayed him." 2 

Accompanied by these twelve as a select and sacred band 
of missionaries, and followed by the remaining band of the 
disciples, Jesus descended from the mountain into one of the 
plains which fringed the shores of the Galilean lake. Im- 
mediately he was surrounded with " a great multitude of people 
which came to hear him and to be healed of their diseases, 
and they that were vexed with unclean spirits ; and they were 
» Luke vi. 12 » Matt. x. 2-4. 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 55 

healed. And the whole multitude sought to touch him ; for 
there went virtue out of him, and healed them all." 

In the presence of this vast assemblage, and in a voice 
which probably every one could hear, Jesus again gave fall 
utterance to the moral principles upon which his kingdom 
was to be reared. In this extraordinary address, the same 
principles are enunciated which he proclaimed in his Sermon 
on the Mount, which Matthew has recorded. Luke has prob- 
ably given us but an epitome of this second address. It was 
as follows : — 

" And he lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said, Blessed 
are ye poor ; for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are ye 
that hunger now; for ye shall be filled. Blessed are ye that 
weep now ; for ye shall laugh. Blessed are ye when men shall 
hate you, and when they shall separate you from their com- 
pany, and reproach you, and shall cast out your name as evil, 
for the Son of man's sake. Rejoice ye in that day, and leap 
for joy ; for, behold, your reward is great in heaven ; for in 
like manner did their fathers unto the prophets. 

" But woe unto you that are rich ! for you have received your 
consolation. Woe unto you that are full ! for ye shall hunger. 
Woe unto you that laugh now ! for ye shall mourn and weep. 
Woe unto you when all men shall speak well of you ! for so 
did their fathers to the false prophets. 

" But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do 
good to them which hate you, bless them that curse you, and 
pray for them which despitefully use you. And unto him that 
smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other ; and him 
that taketh away thy cloak forbid not to take thy coat also. 
Give to every man that asketh of thee ; and of him that 
taketh away thy goods ask them not again. And as ye would 
that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise. For 
if ye love them which love you, what thank have ye ? for sin- 
ners also love those that love them. And if ye do good to 
them which do good to you, what thank have ye ? for sinners 
also do even the same. And if ye lend to them of whom ye 
hope to receive, what thank have ye ? for sinners also lend to 
sinners, to receive as much again. 



66 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

" But love ye your enemies, and lend, hoping for nuthing 
again, and your reward shall he great, and ye shall he the 
children of the Highest ; for he is kind unto the unthankful 
and the evil. Be ye therefore merciful as your Father also 
is merciful. Judge not, and ye shall not he judged : condemn 
not, and ye shall not be condemned : forgive, and ye shall be 
forgiven : give, and it shall be given unto you ; good measure, 
pressed down, and shaken together, shall men give into your 
bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it 
shall be measured to you again. 

" Can the blind lead the blind ? Shall they not both fall 
into the ditch ? The disciple is not above his master ; but 
every one that is perfect shall be as his master. And why 
beL oldest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but per- 
ceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye ? Either how 
canst thou say to thy brother, Brother, let me pull out the 
mote that is in thine eye, when thou thyself beholdest not the 
beam that is in thine own eye ? Thou hypocrite ! cast out 
first the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see 
clearly to pull out the mote that is in thy brother's eye. 

" For a good tree bringeth not forth corrupt fruit ; neither 
doth a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. For every tree is 
known by his own fruit. For of thorns men do not gather 
figs, nor of a bramble-bush gather they grapes. A good 
man, out of the good treasure of his heart, bringeth forth that 
which is good; and an evil man, out of the evil treasure of 
his heart, bringeth forth that which is evil : for of the abun- 
dance of the heart his mouth speaketh. 

" And why call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not the things 
which I say? Whosoever cometh to me, and heareth my 
sayings, and doeth them, I will show you to whom he is like. 
He is like a man which built a house, and digged deep, and 
laid the foundation on a rock. And, when the flood arose, the 
stream beat vehemently upon that house, and could not shake 
it ; for it was founded upon a rock. But he that heareth, and 
doeth not, is like a man, that, without a foundation, built a 
house upon the earth ; against which the stream did beat 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 57 

vehemently, and immediately it fell ; and the ruin of that 
house was great." 

At the close of this address, Jesus entered into Capernaum. 
There was residing in the city a centurion, or captain of a hand 
of a hundred Roman soldiers. He Jiad a servant who was 
sick, " grievously tormented, and ready to die " of a palsy. It 
is prohable that this centurion, though a pagan by birth, had 
become a worshipper of the God of the Jews, and was highly 
esteemed by the Jewish people. Immediately upon the return 
of Jesus to Capernaum, the centurion repaired to the elders of 
the Jews, and besought them that they would intercede with 
Jesus in his behalf that he would heal his servant. They 
went in a body, the centurion accompanying them. 

"And, when they came to Jesus, they besought him instant- 
ly, saying, That he was worthy for whom he should do this ; 
for he loveth our nation, and he hath built us a synagogue." 

Jesus, addressing the centurion, said unto him, " I will come 
and heal him." The centurion replied, " Lord, I am not wor- 
thy that thou shouldest come under my roof ; but speak the word 
only, and my servant shall be healed. For I am a man under 
authority, having soldiers under me : and I say to this man, 
Go, and he goeth; and to another. Come, and he cometh; 
and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it." 

When Jesus saw that this Roman soldier, this Gentile, had 
such implicit confidence in him as to believe that diseases 
were as obedient to the command of Jesus as his own men 
were to his authority, he turned to his disciples, and said unto 
them, " Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, 
no, not in Israel. And I say unto you, That many shall come 
from the east and west, and shall sit down » with Abraham 
and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But the 
children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness : 
there shall be weeping, and gnashing of teeth." 

Then, addressing the centurion, he said, "Go thy way; and 
as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee." The centu- 
rion and his friends, returning to the house, found the servant 
restored to perfect health. 



58 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The next day, Jesus, accompanied by his* disciples and a 
large concourse of the people, went to Nam, a small city 
among the mountains of Galilee, about twelve miles south-west 
of Capernaum. "Now, when he came nigh to the gate of the 
city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of 
his mother, and she was a widow ; and much people of the city 
was with her. And, when the Lord saw her, he had compas- 
sion on her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came 
and touched the bier ; and they that bare him stood still. And 
he said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that 
was dead sat up, and began to speak ; and he delivered him 
to his mother. And there came a fear [awe and amaze- 
ment] on all : and they glorified God, saying, That a great 
prophet is risen up among us ; and, That God hath visited his 
people." 1 

John the Baptist was now a prisoner in the castle of Ma- 
chserus. He had testified to the Messiahship of Jesus. The 
months were gliding away, and yet Jesus was not accomplish- 
ing any thing of that which the Jews had expected of their 
Messiah. He had filled Palestine with his fame as a great 
prophet, performing the most astounding miracles, and preach- 
ing with wisdom and power, which excited the admiration of 
his friends, and baffled his foes. But there were no indications 
whatever of any movement in the direction of driving out the 
Romans, and restoring the Jews to independence in a re-estab- 
lished kingdom which should be the wonder of the world. As 
John, from the glooms of his prison, watched the footsteps of 
Jesus, he was probably disappointed and bewildered. He 
began, perhaps, to doubt whether Jesus were the Messiah. He 
therefore sent two of his disciples to ask of Jesus distinctly 
the question, " Art thou he that should come ? or look we for 
another?" 

Instead of replying to this question, Jesus performed, in the 
presence of the two disciples, a large number of very extraor- 
dinary miracles. "He cured many of their infirmities and 
plagues, and of evil spirits ; and unto many that were blind 
he gave sight." 

i Luke vii. 12-16. 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 59 

Then, addressing the messengers from John, he said, " Go 
your way, and tell John what things ye have seen and heard, — 
how that the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, 
the deaf hear, the dead are raised, to the poor the gospel is 
preached. And blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended 
in me." 

Then, apparently apprehensive that his disciples might form 
an unfavorable opinion respecting John, as though he were 
fickle-minded, having once declared him to be the Messiah, and 
then in doubt sending to inquire if he were the Messiah, he 
assured them that John was not a " a reed shaken by the 
wind ; " that he was not a luxurious man " clothed in soft rai- 
ment," who could be conquered by imprisonment ; but that he 
was one of the most heroic and inflexible of prophets : 
" among them that are born of women there hath not risen a 
greater." 

Continuing his remarks, he said that the scribes and lawyers 
were like capricious children invited by their playmates to join 
them in their amusements, but who would play neither at 
weddings nor funerals. Thus they rejected John because he 
was too austere, and Jesus because he was not austere enough. 
" And from the days of John the Baptist until now the king- 
dom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by 
force." — "I had read this passage a hundred times," said John 
Randolph, " before I perceived its real meaning, — that no luke- 
warm seeker can become a true Christian." 

There were two cities, Chorazin and Bethsaida, in which 
Jesus had preached his gospel and performed many miracles, 
and they had not accepted his doctrine. Having enjoyed and 
rejected such privileges, Jesus declared that it would be more 
tolerable in the day of judgment for the heathen inhabitants 
of Tyre and Sidon than for them. Capernaum also received 
the severest denunciation. These cities have utterly perished : 
not even their ruins remain. And yet Jesus closed this im- 
pressive discourse with the soothing words, " Come unto me, 
all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. 
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me j for I am meek, and 



60 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For 
my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." 1 

Notwithstanding the severity with which Jesus denttmced 
the Pharisees, one of them, by the name of Simon, probably 
somewhat convicted of sin, invited him to dine. Jesus 
promptly accepted the invitation. While reclining upon a 
couch at the table, in the Oriental custom, one of the unhappy 
women of the city, of notoriously bad character, overwhelmed 
with remorse, came in with a box of precious ointment, and 
wept so bitterly, that her tears fell upon the feet of Jesus 
where she knelt. She wiped the tears off with her flowing 
hair, and anointed his feet with the fragrant ointment. Jesus 
did not rebuke her. 

* The proud, self-righteous Pharisee was offended. Though 
he did not venture to utter any words of reproof, he said to him- 
self, u This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who 
and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him." Jesus 
knew his thoughts, and said, in those calm tones of authority 
which marked all his utterances, — 

" Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. There was a 
certain creditor which had two debtors : the one owed five 
hundred pence, and the other fifty. And, when they had nothing 
to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which 
of them will love him most ? " 

Simon replied, " I suppose that he to whom he forgave 
most." 

Jesus said unto him, " Thou hast rightly judged." Then, 
turning to the weeping penitent at his feet, he said, " Simon, 
seest thou this woman ? I entered into thy house : thou gavest 
me no water for my feet ; but she hath washed my feet with tears, 
and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me 
no kiss ; but this woman, since the time I came in, hath not 
ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not 
anoint ; but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. 
Her sins, which are many, are forgiven-; for she loved much : 
but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little." 
i Matt. xi. 20-30. 



TOUR THROUGB GALILEE. 61 

Then, turning to the woman, he said, " Thy sins are forgiven. 
And they that sat at meat with him began to say within them- 
selves, Who is this that forgiveth sins also ? And he said to 
the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee : go in peace." 

From the city of Nam, Jesus set out upon a new tour through 
the cities and villages of Galilee, accompanied by his twelve 
apostles. Several devoted women also accompanied them, to 
minister to their wants. Mary, called Magdalene (from Mag- 
dala, the place of her residence), and Joanna, the wife of Chuza, 
Herod's steward, and Susanna, are specially mentioned. It was 
truly a missionary tour, as Jesus "went throughout every city 
and village, preaching and showing the glad tidings of the 
kingdom of God." It must have occupied several months ; 
and yet we have scarcely the slightest record of its events. 

Upon reaching Capernaum, the throng was so great, that 
Jesus had no time even to partake of food. A man, both 
blind and dumb, and possessed with a devil, was brought to 
him ; and he healed him. This led many to inquire, " Is not 
this the Messiah ? " It is interesting to observe how the feel- 
ings of the people vacillated. The astounding miracles which 
Jesus performed led them to believe that he must be the 
Messiah ; and yet he was making no movement whatever 
toward the establishment of that temporal kingdom which 
they supposed to be the principal object of the Messiah's com- 
ing. The Pharisees, as a body, were growing more and more 
malignant in their hostility. It was impossible for them to 
deny that evil spirits were compelled to obey the bidding of 
Jesus. They therefore absurdly affirmed that the devils obeyed 
him because he was "Beelzebub, the prince of the devils." It 
was in this connection, when the Pharisees, wilfully withstand- 
ing the evidence of truth, maliciously, and against the convic- 
tion of their own consciences, accused Jesus of being the prince 
of devils, that he uttered the remarkable declaration, — 

"Whosoever speaketh a word against the Son of man, it 
shall be forgiven him ; but whosoever speaketh against the 
Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, 
neither in the world to come." 



62 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The serenity with which Jesus ever alluded to the grandear 
of his own character and mission is worthy of special notice. 
There is no apparent want of modesty in his speaking of him- 
self in terms which, from the lips of any other man, would be 
deemed intolerable boasting. In the very impressive discourse 
uttered upon this occasion, he said, referring to himself, — 

" The men of Nineveh shall rise in judgment with this 
generation, and shall condemn it, because they repented at 
the preaching of Jonas ; and, behold, a greater than Jonas is 
here. The queen of the south shall rise up in the judgment 
with this generation, and shall condemn it : for she came 
from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear the wisdom of 
Solomon ; and, behold, a greater than Solomon is here." 

While he was thus speaking, he was informed that his 
mother, and his brothers, James, Joses, &imon, and Judas, 
were standing without, and wished to speak to him. He 
replied, " Who is my mother ? and who are my brethren ? " 
Then, waving his hand towards his disciples, he added, 
" Behold my mother and my brethren ! For whosoever shall 
do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my 
brother and sister and mother." 

The same day on which the above transactions took place, 
Jesus left the city of Capernaum, and repaired to a secluded 
spot upon the shores of the lake. As usual, an immense con- 
course followed him. Here, addressing listening thousands, 
he resumed his preaching, standing upon a boat, while the mul- 
titude thronged the shore. It was on this occasion that he 
introduced the beautiful parable of the sower. At the close, 
his disciples inquired why he addressed the people in parables. 
His reply was, that he did so, because that, by so speaking, hon- 
est inquirers for the truth could easily receive it, and be bene- 
fited by it ; while cavillers, who hated the truth, and were seek- 
ing only for opportunities to revile, had also an opportunity 
presented to them to develop their own wicked natures. 

He then introduced the parables of the wheat and the 
tares, of the grain of mustard-seed, of the leaven. Return- 
ing to the city, he entered a house with his twelve apostles, 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 63 

and there privately explained more fully to them the signifi- 
cance of the parables, and added three more, — the parable of 
the hidden treasure, of the one pearl, of the net. 

As the evening of this busy day approached, Jesus again 
sought solitude, and requested his disciples to take him in a 
boat across the lake to the eastern shore. The lake here was 
about six miles broad. Slowly moving over the calm waters, 
it was midnight ere they reached the middle of the lake. 
Suddenly a terrible tempest came sweeping down upon them 
from the snowy cliffs of Mount Hermon on the north. Jesus 
slept serenely amidst the surging waves, though the apparent 
danger was very great. His terrified companions awoke him, 
saying, rather petulantly, " Lord, save us ! Carest thou not 
that we perish ? " 

Jesus, as he looked around upon the darkness and the 
raging waves, rebuked the wind and the sea, and there was 
immediately a perfect calm. Then, turning to his disciples, he 
gently chided them for their unbelief. " Why are ye so fear- 
ful ? How is it that ye have no faith ? " Notwithstanding 
all they had witnessed before, the disciples were greatly im- 
pressed by this signal display of power, and' said one to another, 
" What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea 
obey him ? " 

The eastern shore of the lake was a wild, rocky, cavernous 
district, which, in olden time, had been much used as catacombs 
for the dead. They had scarcely landed amidst the solitude of 
this inhospitable region when two demoniacs came rushing 
out of the tombs to meet him. Of one it is said, he was 
exceeding fierce, so that " no man could bind him ; no, not with 
chains ; because that he had been often bound with fetters and 
chains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and 
the- fetters broken in pieces : neither could any man tame him. 
And always, night and day, he was in the mountains and in 
the tombs, crying, and cutting himself with stones." 

From his lair this madman rushed upon Jesus to avenge 
this invasion of his domains. But suddenly he stopped, 
seemed bewildered, terrified, and, falling upon his knees, gazed 



64 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY 

upon the approaching stranger with speechless astonishment. 
Calmly Jesus addressed him, saying, " Come out of the man, 
thou unclean spirit ! " Then ensued the following very singular 
colloquy : — 

The demoniac, with a loud voice, cried out, " What have I to 
do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of God most high ? I beseech 
thee, torment me not." 

Jesus replied, " What is thy name ? " 

" My name is Legion," answered the demoniac ; " for we are 
many." The devils then besought Jesus that they might not 
be sent out of the country, so congenial to them, of desola- 
tion, rocks, and deserted tombs. Upon one of the cliffs which 
bordered the lake there was a herd of swine, nearly two thou- 
sand in number : " So the devils besought him, saying, If thou 
cast us out, suffer us to go away into the herd of swine." 

Jesus said unto them, " Go. And the unclean spirits went 
out, and entered into the swine ; and the whole herd ran vio- 
lently down a steep place into the sea, and were choked in the 
sea." 

It is, perhaps, not strange that these demons should, under 
the circumstances, have conducted in a manner to us utterly 
inexplicable. Certainly no attempts, thus far, to show the rea- 
sonableness of their course, have proved successful. 

The keepers of the swine fled, reporting throughout the 
region the disaster which had befallen them, doubtless much 
more impressed by the loss of the swine than by the restora- 
tion of their brother-man from the possession of demons. 
The desolate country on this side of the lake was inhabited 
by a mixture of Jews and Gentiles. As the Jews were for- 
bidden by their own laws to keep swine, the keepers were 
either engaged in illegal business, or were Gentiles. 

Not far from the scene of this miracle was the small city 
of Gergasa. The report soon reached its streets. An immense 
multitude, "the whole city," flocked out "to see what was 
done." They found the man, whose maniacal fury had been 
the terror of the whole community, sitting calm and peace- 
ful, " in his right mind," conversing with Jesus. But they 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 

mourned the loss of the swine. Still they stood in such fear 
of the power of Jesus, that they did not dare to molest him, 
but, with one accord, entreated him to depart out of their 
coasts. Jesus responded to their wishes by re-entering the 
ship, and returning to the other side of the lake. The grate- 
ful man, who had been thus miraculously delivered from the 
most awful doom, begged for permission to accompany him ; 
but Jesus withheld his consent, saying, — 

" Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things 
the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion on 
thee." 1 

Upon the return of Jesus to Capernaum, he was received 
very cordially by the people ; for they had missed him, and 
mourned even his short absence. The busy life of Jesus, 
in preaching his gospel, and in enforcing his authority by 
miraculous deeds of beneficence, seems to have engrossed every 
moment of his time. 

Immediately upon his return to Capernaum, we find him 
surrounded by an immense concourse of people, drawn together 
by the novelty and the charm of his teachings. While he 
was addressing them, Jairus, one of the rulers of the syna- 
gogue, came, and, falling upon his knees at the feet of Jesus, 
earnestly entreated him to save his little daughter, who was 
lying at the point of death. " Come, I pray thee," said he, 
" and lay thy hands on her, that she may be healed ; and she 
shall live." 

Jesus accompanied him to his house : his disciples and the 
crowd' followed. While on his way through the streets, a 
woman, afflicted by a distressing disease, which, according to 
the law, was pronounced unclean, and was deemed incurable, 
stealthily pressed her way through the crowd, and, striving to 
avoid observation, touched the hem of his garment ; for she 
said within herself, " If I may but touch his garment, I shall 
be whole." 

The result cannot be more impressively told than in the 
words of the evangelist : " And straightway the fountain of 

_ i Mark v. 18-20, 



66 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

her blood was dried up ; and she felt in her body that she waa 
healed of that plague. And Jesus, immediately knowing in 
himself that virtue had gone out of him, turned him about in 
the press, and said, Who touched my clothes ? And his dis- 
ciples said unto him, Thou seest the multitude thronging thee, 
and sayest thou, Who touched me ? And he looked round 
about to see her that had done this thing. But the woman, 
fearing and trembling, knowing what was done in her, came 
and fell down before him, and told him all the truth. And, 
when he saw her, he said, Daughter, be of good comfort : thy 
faith hath made thee whole. And the woman was made whole 
from that hour." 

While this scene was transpiring, a messenger came from 
the house of Jairus to inform him that his daughter was dead, 
and that, consequently, all hope was at an end. But Jesus 
spoke words of encouragement to the grief-stricken father, say- 
ing, "Be not afraid: only believe." They repaired to the 
house. The members of the bereaved family were giving 
utterance to their grief by loud weeping and wailing. Jesus 
gently reproved them, intimating that he would awake her 
from the sleep of death, by saying, " The maid is not dead, but 
sleepeth." This assertion only excited the derision of the 
unbelieving group who had gathered around the corpse. 

He ordered all to leave the death-chamber. Then, entering 
with the father and mother of the child, he took the lifeless 
hand in his own, and said, " Damsel, arise ! " Immediately the 
glowing blood of health rushed through her veins ; and the 
daughter of twelve years rose from her couch, to be encircled 
in the arms of her amazed and grateful parents. 

Thus wonder after wonder greeted the ears of the aston- 
ished citizens of Capernaum. Returning from the house of 
Jairus to the dwelling, probably the house of Peter, which 
he made hjs temporary home while in Capernaum, he was fol- 
lowed by two blind men, who incessantly exclaimed, "Thou 
son of David, have mercy on us ! " For some unexplained rea- 
son, Jesus paid no apparent heed to their cry. But, when he 
entered the house, the blind were permitted by the multitude 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 67 

to crowd their way in also. Jesus then, turning to them, said, 
"Believe ye that I am able to do this ? " They replied, " Yea, 
Lord." Then he touched their eyes, and said, " According to 
your faith be it unto you." We know not why Jesus should 
have enjoined it upon these blind men, as he did upon the 
parents of the maiden restored to life, not to proclaim the mir- 
acle abroad. It seems impossible that such astounding events, 
occurring in a crowded city, in broad day, could be concealed, 
or that any advantage could be derived from their conceal- 
ment. 

Jesus returned to Nazareth ; but his reception by his fellow- 
townsmen was not cordial. Though he performed some mira- 
cles, and taught in their synagogue with such wisdom and 
authority as astonished them, still they rather sneeringly 
remarked, — 

" Is not this the carpenter's son ? Is not his mother called 
Mary ? and . his brethren, James and Joses and Simon and 
Judas ? And his sisters, are they not all with us ? Whence, 
then, hath this man all these things ? " 

Jesus seems to have been discouraged by this unbelieving 
spirit on their part ; for he soon left them, after healing a few 
of their sick, saying in a proverbial phrase, " A prophet is not 
without honor save in his own country and in his own house." 

Leaving Nazareth, he again set out upon a tour through the 
cities and villages of Galilee, "teaching in their synagogues, 
and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every 
sickness and every disease among the people." l The material 
and the spiritual wants of the people deeply oppressed his 
spirit. "He was moved with compassion on them, because 
they fainted, and were scattered abroad as sheep having no 
shepherd." In view of this moral desolation, he called his 
twelve chosen apostles around him, and said to them, — 

" The harvest truly is plenteous ; but the laborers are few. 
Pray ye, therefore, the Lord of. the harvest, that he will send 
forth laborers into his harvest." 

He then, having endowed them with miraculous powers 

» Matt, ix, 35. 



68 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

that they might cast out devils and cure diseases, sent them 
forth two and two "to preach the kingdom of God." In 
preparation for the privations and toils before them, he 
addressed them in the following memorable words : — 

" Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city 
of the Samaritans enter ye not; but go rather to the lost 
sheep of the house of Israel. And, as ye go, preach, saying, 
The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, cleanse 
the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils. Freely have ye 
received ; freely give. Provide neither gold nor silver nor 
brass in your purses, nor scrip for your journey, neither two 
coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves ; for the workman is 
worthy of his meat. 

" And, into whatsoever city or town ye shall enter, inquire 
who in it is worthy ; and there abide till ye go thence. And, 
when ye enter into a house, salute it. And, if the house be 
worthy, let your peace come upon it ; but, if it be not worthy, 
let your peace return to you. And whosoever shall not receive 
you, nor hear your words, when ye depart out of that house 
or city, shake off the dust of your feet. Verily I say unto you, 
It shall be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day 
of judgment than for that city. 

"Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: 
be ye, therefore, wise as serpents, and harmless as doves. But 
beware of men : for they will deliver you up to the councils, 
and they will scourge you in their synagogues ; and ye shall be 
brought before governors and kings for my sake, for a testi- 
mony against them and the Gentiles. But, when they deliver 
you up, take no thought how or what ye shall speak ; for it 
shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak. For 
it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which 
speaketh in you. 

" And the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and 
the father the child ; and the children shall rise up against 
their parents, and cause them to be put to death. And ye shall 
be hated of all men for my name's sake ; but he that endur- 
eth to the end shall be saved. But, when they persecute you 



TOUR THROUGH GALILEE. 69 

in this city, flee ye into another ; for verily I say unto you, Ye 
shall not have gone over the cities of Israel till the Son of 
man be come. 1 

" The disciple is not above his master, nor the servant above 
his lord. It is enough for the disciple that he be as his master, 
and the servant as his lord. If they have called the master of 
the house Beelzebub, how much more shall they call them of 
his household ! Fear them not, therefore ; for there is nothing 
covered that shall not be revealed, and hid that shall not be 
known. What I tell you in darkness, that speak ye in the 
light ; and what ye hear in the ear, that preach ye upon the 
house-tops. And fear not them which kill the body, but are 
not able to kill the soul ; but rather fear Him which is able 
to destroy both soul and body in hell. 

" Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing ? and one of 
them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But 
the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not, 
therefore : ye are of more value than many sparrows. Whoso- 
ever, therefore, shall confess me before men, him will I confess 
also before my Father which is in heaven ; but whosoever 
shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my 
Father which is in heaven. 

" Think not that I am come to send peace on earth : I came 
not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set & man 
at variance against his father, and the daughter against her 
mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; 
and a man's foes shall be they of his own household. He 
that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy 
of me ; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is 
not worthy of me. And he that taketh not his cross, and fol- 
loweth after me, is not worthy of me. He that fmdeth his life 
shall lose it ; and he that loseth his life for my sake shall 
find it. 

" He that receiveth you receiveth me ; and he that receiv- 
eth me receiveth Him that sent me. He that receiveth a 

1 No commentator has given a satisfactory explanation of the meaning, in this 
connection, of these last words. 



70 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a prophet's 
reward; and he that receiveth v a righteous man in the name 
of a righteous man shall receive a righteous man's reward. 
And whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little 
ones 1 a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, 
verily I say unto you, He shall in no wise lose his reward." 

Thus commissioned to an enterprise of toil, poverty, depriva- 
tion, and suffering, these apostles of Jesus went forth to preach 
the gospel of Christ throughout the land. Jesus also " departed 
thence to teach and to preach in their cities." 

1 So called from their want of wealth, rank, learning, and whatever the world 
calls great, 



CHAPTER III. 



THE TEACHINGS OP JESUS, AND MIRACLES OP HEALING. 



Infamy of Herod. — Jesus in the Desert. — Feeds the Five Thousand. — Walks on 
the Sea. — Preaches to the People. —Visits Tyre and Sidon. — The Syro-Phoeni- 
cian Woman. — Cures all Manner of Diseases. — Feeds the Four Thousand. — 
Restores Sight to a Blind Man. — Conversation with Peter. — The Transfigura- 
tion. — Cure of the Lunatic. — Dispute of the Apostles. — Law of Forgiveness. 
— Visits^ Jerusalem. — Plot to seize Jesus. — The Adulteress. — Jesus the Son of 
God. — The Blind Man. — Parable of the Good Shepherd. — Raising of Lazarus. 



; HE fame of Jesus had reached the ears of King 
Herod, the son of Herod called the Great. 
This wretched man had already ordered the 
death of his prisoner, John the Baptist, to 
gratify a woman who had deserted her own hus- 
'r^ band, and had induced him to abandon his own 
wife, that they might be united in guilty bonds. 
Agitated by remorse, he feared that his beheaded victim had 
risen from the grave. 

It would seem to be a matter deeply to be regretted that we 
have no record of the adventures of the apostles upon their 
first missionary excursion. At its close they returned to Jesus, 
who was at Capernaum, " and told him all things, both what 
they had done and what they had taught. 

"And he said unto them, Come ye yourselves apart into 
a desert place, and rest a while ; for there were many coming 
and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat." Upon 
the northern shore of the lake, there was the city of Beth- 
eaida, just east of the entrance of the Jordan into the Sea of 

71 




72 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Galilee. Near that place there was a desert region of silence 
and solitude. Embarking in one of the fishermen's boats, 
called a ship, Jesus and his apostles sought this retreat ; but 
the excited multitude followed upon the shore on foot. There 
was no seclusion for Jesus. An immense crowd soon again 
surrounded him. They were in the desert, and, without food, 
were in danger of perishing. Jesus, " moved with compassion 
towards them, received them, and spake unto them of the king- 
dam of God, and healed them that had need of healing." 

Ascending a small eminence, Jesus looked with tender sym- 
pathy over the vast and hungry throng, amounting to five 
thousand men, besides women and children. His disciples 
ventured to suggest, that as night was coming on, and they 
had nothing to eat, he should send them all away, that in the 
villages around they might obtain food. Jesus requested them 
to ascertain how much food there was at their disposal. Hav- 
ing made inquiries, they reported to him that there were but 
five barley-loaves and two small fishes. 

He then requested the multitude to sit down upon the 
ground in companies of fifty. Taking the loaves and the fishes, 
he looked up to heaven, and blessed and brake. The disci- 
ples then distributed to the multitude; " and they did all eat, 
and were filled. And they took up of the fragments which 
remained twelve baskets full." 

Having thus fed them, Jesus requested them all to retire 
to their homes. At the same time, he directed his disciples to 
get into the ship, and return to the western side of the 
lake. He himself, entirely alone, went up into a mountain 
apart to pray. The gloom of night soon enveloped the whole 
region. A violent head wind arose, tossing the little ship 
which contained the disciples upon a boisterous sea. It was 
the darkest hour of the night, just before the dawn of the 
morning, when the disciples, toiling at the oars against the 
contrary wind, were affrighted by seeing some one approach 
them, walking over the waves. All saw the apparition, and 
were so greatly alarmed, that they cried out for fear. 

But soon they were re-assured by hearing the well-known 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 73 

voice of Jesus saying unto them, "Be of good cheer: it is I; 
be not afraid." The impulsive Peter immediately exclaimed, 
" Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water. 
And he said, Come. And, when Peter was cbme down out of 
the ship, he walked on the water to go to Jesus. But, when 
he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid ; and, beginning to 
sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me ! And immediately 
Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto 
him, thou of little faith ! wherefore didst thou doubt ? " 

As Jesus entered the ship, the wind ceased, and they found 
themselves entering their destined port near Capernaum. The 
crowd still thronged Jesus in ever-increasing numbers wher- 
ever he appeared. They came swarming over the lake m 
boats, and by all paths on the land, "and ran through that 
whole region round about, and began to carry about in beds 
those that were sick, where they heard he was. And whither- 
soever he entered, into villages or cities or country, they laid 
the sick in the streets, and besought him that they might 
touch if it were but the border of his garment ; and as many 
as touched him were made whole." 

The miracles Jesus performed seemed to be but the inci- 
dental part of his mission, intended to draw attention to his 
preaching, and to enforce its authority. Surrounded by the 
turmoil, of which we can form but a feeble conception, we hav«s 
the record of the following remarkable sayings. Alluding to 
the miracle by which he fed the five thousand, he said, — 

" Labor not for the meat which perisheth, but fc^.* that meat 
which endureth unto everlasting life, which the Son of man 
shall give unto you : for him hath God the Father sealed ; n 
that is, accredited as an ambassador. 

When some one alluded to the miracle which Moses per- 
formed in the gift of manna in the desert, Jesus replied, 
" Verily I say unto you, Moses gave you not that bread from 
heaven. For the bread of God is he which cometh down from 
heaven, and giveth life unto the world. I am the bread of 
life : he that cometh to me shall never hunger ; and he that 
believeth on me shall never thirst. All that the Father giveth 



74 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

me shall come to me ; and him that cometh to me I will in no 
wise cast out. For I came down from heaven, not to do mine 
own will, but the will of Him that sent me. And this is the 
Father's will which hath sent me, — that of all which he hath 
given me I should lose nothing, hut should raise it up again 
at the last day. And this is the will of Him that sent me, — 
that every one which seeth the Son, and believeth on him, may 
have everlasting life ; and I will raise him up at the last day." 

It is not strange that reflective men should have been pro- 
foundly moved by such extraordinary utterances, sustained as 
they were by the most astounding miracles. Here was a man 
born in their own neighborhood, in the most humble ranks of 
life, saying, " I am the bread of life ; " " He that cometh to me 
shall never hunger; " "I came down from heaven;" "I will 
raise him up at the last day." 

" The Jews then murmured at him " because he said, " I am 
the bread which came down from heaven." 

But Jesus said unto them, " Murmur not among yourselves. 
No man can come to me, except the Father, which hath sent 
me, draw him ; and I will raise him up at the last day. It is 
written in the prophets, And they shall be all taught of God. 
Every man, therefore, that hath heard, and hath learned of the 
Father, cometh unto me. Verily I say unto you, He that 
believeth on me hath everlasting life. I am that bread of life. 
Your fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and. are dead. 
This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man 
may eat thereof, and not die. I am the living bread which 
came down from heaven. If any man eat of this bread, he shall 
live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which 
I will give for the life of the world." 

Well might those who listened to such extraordinary teach- 
ings as these say, " Never man spake like this man." " How 
can this man give us his flesh to eat ? " 

Jesus replied in still more extraordinary and apparently in- 
explicable declarations : " Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except 
ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have 
no life in you. Whoso eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 75 

hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day. 
For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. 
He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood dwelleth in 
me, and I in him. As the living Father hath sent me, and I 
live by the Father ; so he that eateth me, even he shall li yq by 
me." 

It was in the synagogue at Capernaum that Jesus made 
these remarks. Even his disciples were perplexed, and said, 
" This is a hard saying : who can hear it ? " Jesus, knowing 
their thoughts, instead of explaining his meaning, added, — 

" Doth this offend you ? What and if ye shall see the Son 
of man ascend up where he was before ? It is the spirit that 
quickeneth : the flesh profiteth nothing. The words that I 
speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life. But there 
are some of you that believe not." l 

John, who records these words, adds, " For Jesus knew from 
the beginning who they were that believed not, and who 
should betray him. From that time many of his disciples 
went back, and walked no more with him. Then said Jesus 
unto the twelve, Will ye also go away ? Then Simon Peter 
answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go ? thou hast the 
words of eternal life. And we believe, and are sure, that thou 
art that Christ, the Son of the living God. Jesus answered, 
Have not I chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil ? 
He spake of Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon ; for he it 
was that should betray him, being one of the twelve." 

The Jewish doctors at Jerusalem, hearing of the fame of 
Jesus, and of the vast influence which he was acquiring, sent 
several of their most influential men to Galilee as spies upon 
his conduct, and, if possible, to entrap him. After a time, 
they accused the disciples of Jesus of not conforming to the 
ceremonial observances which their rules enjoined, — particu- 
larly in the matter of not performing sufficiently minute and 
numerous ablutions before eating, or after returning from mar- 
ket. Jesus silenced them by showing that they, by their 
unwarranted traditions, had established burdensome ceremo- 

* John vi. 25-n, 






76 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

nies which the law did not enjoin, and that they had wickedly 
substituted these external rites for obedience, and holiness of 
heart. 

" Ye reject," said he, " the commandment of God, that ye 
may keep your own tradition. Ye hypocrites ! well did Esaias 
prophesy of you, saying, This people draweth nigh unto me 
with their mouth, and honor eth me with their lips ; but their 
heart is far from me." 

Soon after this, Jesus took another excursion through the 
whole length of Galilee, in a north-west direction, to Tyre and 
Sidon, in the province of Syro-Phcenicia, on the shore of the 
Mediterranean Sea, then cities of great commercial importance. 
Sidon was at the distance of about sixty miles from Caper- 
naum. Both of these cities were inhabited mainly by idola- 
ters. Entering a house in that distant region, a woman of the 
country, who had doubtless heard of his miraculous powers, 
came to him, and, in very imploring terms, cried out, — 

" Have mercy on me, Lord, thou son of David ! my daugh- 
ter is grievously vexed with a devil." 

Jesus, for some unexplained reason, for a time paid no heed 
to her cry. At length, with great seeming severity, he said 
to her, " It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast 
it unto the dogs." 

She replied, " Truth, Lord ; yet the dogs eat of the crumbs 
which fall from their masters' table." 

Jesus answered, " woman ! great is thy faith. Be it unto 
thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole 
from that hour." 

This is all the record we have of this long journey. It is 
the general assumption that Jesus retreated to the coasts of 
Tyre and Sidon, not to extend his ministry there, but to obtain 
transient rest from its exhausting toils. Returning, he crossed 
the Jordan several miles above its entrance into the lake, and 
approached Gennesaret on its eastern shore. But his footsteps 
could not be concealed. 

" Great multitudes came unto him, having with them those 
that were lame, blind ; dumb, maimed, and many others, and 



, TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 77 

3ast them down at Jesus' feet ; and he healed them, insomuch 
that the multitude wondered when they saw the dumb to 
speak, the maimed to be whole, the lame to walk, and the blind 
to see ; and they glorified the God of Israel." 

One man was brought to him here who was deaf, blind, and 
nearly dumb. His friends implored Jesus to interpose in his 
behalf. Jesus moistened his own finger with spittle, and then 
touched his ears and his tongue. Looking up to heaven, he 
sighed, and said, " Be opened ! and straightway his ears were 
opened, and the string of his tongue was loosed, and he spake 
plain." 1 

It is worthy of notice, that Jesus, in performing these won- 
derful miracles, manifested no spirit of exultation. In this 
case, looking up to heaven, "he sighed." This same pensive 
mood of mind seemed to accompany all his teachings and all 
his actions. 

Jesus was here again in the comparatively desolate region on 
the east side of the lake. Four thousand men, besides women 
and children, had gathered around him. " I have compassion 
on the multitude," said Jesus, " because they have now been 
with me three days, and have nothing to eat ; and, if I send 
them away to their own houses fasting, they will faint by the 
way." 

There were but seven loaves and a few little fishes at hand. 
Jesus, as before, directed all the multitude to sit down upon 
the ground. He then took the seven loaves and the fishes, 
gave thanks, and brake them, and gave to his disciples to dis- 
tribute to the multitude. When all had been abundantly sat- 
isfied, seven baskets of the fragments were gathered up. 

Dismissing the well-fed multitude, all whose sick he had 
also healed, Jesus took ship and crossed the lake to Dalma- 
nutha, a small town on the western shore of the lake, about 
twenty miles south of Capernaum. Some scribes and Phari- 
sees came to him in a cavilling spirit, demanding that he 
should perform some miracle for their special entertainment or 
satisfaction. Saddened by the unbelieving, captious disposi- 

i Mark vii. 36. 



?S HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

tion they manifested, "lie sighed deeply in spirit; " and, refus- 
ing to minister to their entertainment, he left them, and 
returned to the other side of the lake, warning his disciples to 
beware of the doctrine of the Pharisees and the Sadducees. 
The ship landed them again at Bethsaida, on the north-eastern 
shore of the lake, near the spot where he had performed the 
miracle of feeding the multitude with the loaves and the fishes. 
A blind man was brought to him, whom he healed by applying 
spittle to his sightless eyes. He then, we cannot tell why, 
sent him away to his house, saying, "Neither go into the 
town, nor tell it to any in the town." 1 

About fifteen miles north of Bethsaida, near the source of 
the Jordan, was the somewhat important town of Caesarea Phil- 
ippi. There were a few scattered villages in the sparsely-set- 
tled region between. Sauntering along on foot in one of the 
lonely roads of this secluded and romantic region, ascending 
the eastern banks of the Jordan, he withdrew for a little time 
from his disciples to a solitary place for prayer. Then, return- 
ing to them, he inquired, — 

" Whom do men say that I the Son of man am ? 

" And they said, Some say, John the Baptist ; some, Elias ; 
and others, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets." 

" But whom say ye that I am?" he added. 

Simon Peter replied, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the 
living God." 

It seems from this conversation that the people generally 
did not recognize Jesus as the long-expected Messiah. They 
supposed that he was to appear in great pomp and power, drive 
the Roman invaders out of Palestine, and restore the kingdom 
again to Israel. But, when Peter announced so emphatically 
his conviction that Jesus was indeed the Messiah, Jesus 
replied, — 

" Blessed art thou, Simon, son of Jonas ; for flesh and blood 
hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in 
heaven. And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and 
upon this rock I will build my church ; and the gates of hell 

i Mark viii. 26. 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. ?§ 

shall not prevail against it. And I will give nnto thee the 
keys of the kingdom of heaven ; and whatsoever thou shalt 
bind on earth shall he hound in heaven, and whatsoever thou 
shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." 

Upon this remarkable declaration has been reared the stu- 
pendous fabric of the Papal Church, with the assumption that 
Peter was here appointed the vicegerent of Christ, with power 
to forgive sin, and condemn to eternal death; and this su- 
premacy was to be extended to his successors. For the follow- 
ing reasons, Protestants reject this interpretation : — 

1. "Upon this rock " means, Upon this declaration that Jesus 
is the Christ ; in accordance with the reiterated assertion, that 
" other foundation can no man lay than is laid, which is Jesus 
Christ." 2. Whatever may be meant by the expression, " I 
will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom ; and whatsoever 
thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and what- 
soever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven," can- 
not be intended to confer any special supremacy upon Peter, 
since the same authority was immediately (Matt, xviii. 18) 
extended to all the apostles. 

It is very evident that Jesus did not regard Peter as infalli- 
ble ; since he soon administered to him the terrible rebuke, 
" Get thee behind me, Satan ! " It is equally plain that the 
other apostles did not so regard him ; since it is recorded (Gal. ii. 
11) that Paul withstood him to his face, because he was to be 
blamed. To bind and to loose, in Jewish phrase, was to prohibit 
and to permit. By this phrase, Jesus announced that his 
apostles were to be divinely guided in the organization of the 
Church. Such rites and ceremonies as they should establish 
were to have the force of divine authority. 

It was but gradually that Jesus revealed the great mystery 
of his kingdom to his disciples. He now, for the first time, 
began to unfold to them the truth, — that he was to go to Jeru- 
salem, there to suffer and to be killed, and to rise again from 
the dead on the third day. The impetuous Peter, perhaps 
unduly elated by the commendation he had just received, with 
the grossest impropriety took it upon himself to rebuke his 



BO History of Christianity. 

Lord and Master, whom he had just confessed to be the Mes- 
siah. Jesus turned upon him, and, with terrible severity, 
said, — 

" Get thee behind me, Satan ! thou art an offence unto me ; 
for thou savorest not [dost not understand] the things that be 
of God, but those that be of men." 

Peter needed this rebuke ; and it certainly must have satis- 
fied him that he could set up no claim to infallibility. Jesus, 
continuing his address to his apostles, said, in words which will 
ever vibrate throughout the whole Christian world, — 

" If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and 
take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his 
life shall lose it ; and whosoever shall lose his life for my sake 
and the gospel's shall find it. For what shall it profit a man 
if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? or 
what shall a man give in exchange for his soul ? For the Son 
of man shall come in the glory of his Father, with his angels; 
and then he shall reward every man according to his works. 
Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words in this 
adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of 
man be ashamed when he cometh in the glory of his Father 
with the holy angels. Verily I say unto you, That there be 
some of them that stand here which shall not taste of death till 
they have seen the kingdom of God come with power." 1 

This conversation took place far away amidst the wild and 
mountainous solitudes of the north, in the vicinity of Caesarea 
Philippi. Just north of them swept the magnificent moun- 
tain-range of Great Hermon. Bugged peaks were rising from 
the plain all around. Jesus, who ever loved the stillness of 
the night and the solitude of the mountain, took with him 
three of his disciples, Peter, James, and John, and ascended 
one of these eminences " to pray." 

" And, as he prayed, he was transfigured before them ; and 
his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the 

1 Matthew expresses the same idea by the words, " Till they see the Son of man 
coming in his kingdom." This wonderful expansion of the kingdom of Christ was 
\ndeed witnessed on the day of Pentecost, and in many subsequent scenes. 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. &1 

light. And there appeared unto them Moses and Elias talk- 
ing with him ; and they spake of his decease which he should 
accomplish at Jerusalem. 

" But Peter and they that were with him were heavy with 
sleep ; and, when they were awake, they saw his glory, and the 
two men that stood with him. And it came to pass, as they 
departed from him, Peter said unto Jesus, Master, it is good 
for us to be here ; and let us make three tabernacles, — one for 
thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias, — not knowing what 
he said. While he yet spake, behold a bright cloud overshad- 
owed them. And there came a voice out of the cloud, which 
said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased : 
hear ye him. 

" And, .when the disciples heard it, they fell on their faces, 
and were sore afraid. And Jesus came and touched them, and 
said, Arise, and be not afraid ; and, when they had lifted up 
their eyes, they saw no man save Jesus only." 

Thus there were three witnesses to the divine attestation 
that Jesus was the Messiah. Still, when they were descend- 
ing the mountain, Jesus requested them to " tell the vision 
to no man until the Son of man be risen again from the 
dead." 

It was difficult for the disciples to accept the doctrine of a 
Messiah who should be put to death : it caused an utter be- 
wilderment of all their preconceived conceptions of a Messiah 
triumphant over all his foes. As they walked along, " they 
questioned one with another what the rising from the dead 
should mean." It seems that they were thrown into a state 
of great perplexity, and began again to doubt whether Jesus 
were really the Messiah-j for the next day they cautiously 
inquired of him how it was that "the .scribes say that Elias must 
first come." Jesus informed them that Elias had- already 
come, in the person of John the Baptist ; and that, as the 
scribes had done to him whatever they chose, " so likewise 
shall the Son of man suffer of them." 

As soon as Jesus appeared, descending from the mountain, a 
multitude rapidly gathered around him. A father, who had 



82 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

heard of the fame of Jesus, had Drought his son to be healed 
who was suffering terribly from a foul spirit. He had arrived 
while Jesus was upon the mountain, and had applied to his 
disciples for aid. As soon as Jesus appeared, the father hast- 
ened to him, and, falling upon his knees before him, said, — 

" Lord, have mercy on my son ; for he is lunatic, and sore 
vexed : for ofttimes he falleth into the fire, and oft into the 
water. And I brought him to thy disciples, and they could 
not cure him. 

" Then Jesus answered and said, O faithless and perverse 
generation ! how long shall I be with you ? how long shall I 
suffer you ? Bring him hither to me." 

The child was brought to Jesus, and was immediately seized 
with terrible convulsions. To the inquiry of Jesus, "How 
long is it ago since this came unto him ? " the father replied, 
" Of a child ; and ofttimes it hath cast him into the fire, and 
into the waters, to destroy him. But, if thou canst do any 
thing, have compassion on us, and help us. 

" Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are 
possible to him that believeth. 

" And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said 
with tears, Lord, I believe : help thou mine unbelief. 

" When Jesus saw that the people came running together, 
he rebuked the foul spirit, saying, Thou dumb and deaf spirit, 
I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him. 

" And the spirit cried, and rent him sore, and came out of 
him. And he was as one dead ; insomuch that many said, He 
is dead. But Jesus took him by the hand, and lifted him up, 
and delivered him again to his father." 

The disciples soon after came to Jesus, and inquired of him, 
privately, why they could not cast out that evil spirit. To this 
Jesus made the remarkable reply, not easily to be fully com- 
prehended by our weak faith, — 

"Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If 
ye have faith as a grain of mustard-seed, ye shall say unto this 
mountain [probably pointing to the Mount of Transfiguration], 
Remove hence to yonder place, and it shall remove ; and 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 83 

nothing shall be impossible unto yon. Howbeit, this kind 
goeth not out but by prayer and fasting." * 

Jesus now commenced another tour through the cities and 
villages of Galilee, preaching the gospel and healing the sick, 
everywhere creating amazement "at the mighty power of God." 
While on this tour, he again informed his disciples, in most 
emphatic terms, of his approaching death at Jerusalem. 

" The Son of man," said he, " is delivered into the hands of 
men, and they shall kill him ; and, after that he is killed, he 
shall rise the third day." 2 

But the apostles could not understand how the Messiah could 
be put to death. " They were exceeding sorry," and " under- 
stood not that saying," and " were afraid to ask him." As the 
apostles journeyed along, following the footsteps of Jesus, a 
discussion rose among them as to who would be pre-eminent in 
the kingdom of the Messiah. 

" Jesus, perceiving the thought of their heart, asked them, 
What was it that ye disputed among yourselves by the way ? 
But they held their peace ; for by the way they had disputed 
among themselves who should be the greatest. And he sat 
down, and called the twelve, and saith unto them, If any man 
desire to be first, the same shall be last of all, and servant of 
all. And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them ; 
<md, when he had taken him in his arms, he said unto them, 
Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as 
\ittle children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. 
Whosoever, therefore, shall humble himself as this little child, 
the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoso 
shall receive one such little child in my name, receiveth me ; and 
whoso shall receive me, receiveth, not me, but Him that sent me." 

When they had returned to Capernaum, the question rose 
respecting paying tribute-money, which Jesus paid by sending 
Peter to the lake to catch a fish, in whose mouth a piece of 
money was found. Jesus also made some very striking remarks, 
recorded by both Matthew and Mark, respecting the fearful 
consequence of tempting others to sin. 3 

1 Matt. xvii. 20, 21. 2 Matt, xviii. 2-4; Mark ix. 31, 33-36. 

8 Matt, xviii. 6-9; Mark ix. 44-50. 



84 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

He also introduced the parable of the lost sheep, gave them 
instructions respecting their dealings with a Christian brother 
who should fall into sin, and conferred upon them all the same 
authority to establish rules for the government of the Church 
which before he had apparently conferred upon Peter. " Whatso- 
ever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and what- 
soever shall be loosed on earth shall be loosed in heaven." Pie 
then assured them, that, in the organization of the Church, if 
any two should agree about the arrangement of affairs, it should 
be ratified by God. " If two of you shall agree on earth as 
touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for 
them of my Father which is in heaven ; for where two or three 
are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst 
of them." 

When Peter asked Jesus if he should forgive a brother who 
had sinned against him seven times, he replied, " I say not 
unto thee, Until seven times ; but, Until seventy times seven." 
He then introduced the parable of the king and his debtors. 

The Jews' feast of tabernacles was at hand. Jesus had 
thus far performed his miracles and proclaimed his teachings 
almost entirely in the remote province of Galilee. His breth- 
ren urged him to go up to Jerusalem, the thronged metropolis, 
that he might "show himself to the world." They said this 
sarcastically ; for, notwithstanding all his mighty works, it is 
recorded that "his brethren" did not believe in him. Jesus, 
however, said that the time had not yet come for him to go to 
Jerusalem j adding, " The world cannot hate you ; but me it 
hateth, because I testify of it that the works thereof are evil." 
Jesus remained in Galilee until after his brethren had gone up 
to Jerusalem. At the feast, there was a very general inquiry 
where Jesus was. It was supposed, that, being a Jew, he cer- 
tainly would not abstain from being present. There was also 
great diversity of opinion expressed respecting his character ; 
some saying that he was a good man, while others said that 
he was deceiving the people. 

About the middle of the feast, Jesus made his appearance, 
and, entering the temple, taught the people. His words and 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 85 

manner excited the surprise of all who heard him, leading 
them to say, "How knoweth this man letters, having never 
learned ? " Jesus replied, — 

" My doctrine is not mine, but His that sent me. If any 
man will do his will; he shall know of the doctrine, whether it 
he of God, or whether I speak of myself. He that speaketh 
of himself seeketh his own glory ; hut he that seeketh His 
glory that sent him, the same is true, and no unrighteousness 
is in him. Did not Moses give you the law ? and yet none of 
you keepeth the law. Why go ye about to kill me ? " 

The people replied in words which showed their rising hatred, 
"Thou hast a devil. Who goeth about to kill thee ? " 

Jesus, referring to the healing of the man at the Pool of 
Bethesda, said, "I have done one work, and ye all marvel." 
Then, to show them the unreasonableness of their hostility to 
him because he thus healed a man on the sabbath day. he said, 
a Moses gave unto you circumcision ; and ye, on the sabbath 
day, circumcise a man. If a man on the sabbath day receive 
circumcision, that the law of Moses should not be broken, are 
ye angry at me because I have made a man every whit whole 
on the sabbath day ? n 

The appearance of Jesus and his teaching excited great 
commotion in Jerusalem ; and there was much discussion 
among the people, whether he were the Messiah. The rulers 
were bewildered. They wished to arrest him and silence him ; 
but there was nothing in what he said or did which could war- 
rant them in any acts of violence. Many of the people in 
Jerusalem expressed the belief that Jesus was the Messiah, 
saying, "When Christ cometh, will he do more miracles 
than this man hath done ? " The Pharisees and chief priests, 
alarmed by these indications of increasing popular favor,- 
secretly sent officers to take him ; but, though Jesus continued 
teaching the people without adopting any measures of conceal- 
ment or defence, for some unexplained reason the officers did 
not arrest him. He, however, made an announcement to the 
people, which, at the time, they did not fully comprehend, — 
that, when his appointed time came, he should return to his 



86 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Father in heaven, and that then they would seek him in vain. 
" Yet a little while," said he, " am I with you ; and then I go 
unto Him that sent me. Ye shall seek me, and shall not find 
me ; and where I am, thither ye cannot come." 1 

Thus he continued boldly teaching until the last great day 
of the feast, when, in an emphatic voice, he uttered in the tem- 
ple the memorable words, so assuming if he were but a man, 
so suitable if he were divine, " If any man thirst, let him come 
unto me and drink ; " adding, in phrase still figurative, that 
those who thus partook of the fountain of living waters should 
bestow liberal and constant blessings on their fellow-men. 

When the officers who had been sent to arrest Jesus returned 
without him, they replied to the inquiry why they had done 
so, "Never man spake like this man." The Pharisees 
scornfully retorted, alluding to the undoubted fact that it was 
the common people who generally accepted Jesus, " Are ye 
also deceived ? Have any of the rulers or of the Pharisees 
believed on him ? But this people who knoweth not the law 
are cursed." 

Here Nicodemus, who was a member of the council, and 
who, several months before, had visited Jesus by night, ventured 
timidly to interpose. "Doth our law," he inquired, "judge 
any man before it hear him and know what he doeth ? " He 
was silenced by the contemptuous and somewhat menacing 
reply, " Art thou also of Galilee ? Search and look ; for out 
of Galilee ariseth no prophet." 

While the rulers were thus seeking to entrap Jesus, he left 
the city, and ascended the greensward of the Mount of Olives, 
about a mile east of the walls. Here it seems that he spent 
the night beneath the stars of that serene and genial clime. 
Early the next morning, he returned to the temple. A multi- 
tude, as usual, gathered around him. The following remarkable 
scene' which then ensued cannot be better described than in 
the language of the inspired writers : — 

"And the scribes and Pharisees brought unto him a woman 
taken in adultery; and, when they had set her in the midst, they 
say unto him, Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in 
i John vii. 34. 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 87 

the very act. Now, Moses, in the law, commanded us that 
such should he stoned ; hut what sayest thou ? This they said 
tempting him, that they might accuse him. 

" But Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the 
ground. So, when they continued asking him, he lifted up 
himself, and said untothem, He that is without sin among you, 
let him first cast a stone at her. And again he stooped down, 
and wrote on the ground. And they which heard it, heing 
convicted hy conscience, went out one hy one, heginning at 
the eldest, even unto the last ; and Jesus was left alone, and 
the woman standing in the midst. When Jesus had lifted up 
himself, and saw none but the woman, he said unto her, Woman, 
where are those thine accusers ? hath no man condemned thee ? 
She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do 
I condemn thee : go, and sin no more." 1 

Then, turning to the people assembled in the temple, he 
said, in phrases which will cause every thoughtful mind to 
pause and ponder, "I am the light of the world. He that 
followeth me shall not walk in darkness, hut shall have the 
light of life." 

These were, indeed, very extraordinary assertions upon any 
other assumption than that he was truly the " brightness of 
the Father's glory, and the express image of his person." The 
Pharisees accused him of boasting, saying, "Thou bearest rec- 
ord of thyself : thy record is not true." 

Jesus re-affirmed his declaration, saying, "Though I bear 
record of myself, yet my record is true : for I know whence I 
came, and whither I go ; but ye cannot tell whence I come, 
and whither I go. Ye judge after the flesh : I judge no man. 
And yet, if I judge, my judgment is true ; for I am not alone, 
but I and the Father that sent me. It is also written in 
your law, that the testimony of two men is true. I am one 
that bear witness of myself; and the Father that sent me 
beareth witness of me." 2 

To this they replied with the question, u Where is thy Fa- 
ther ? " They had before sought to kill him because he said 
that God was his Father. 

i John viii. 2-7. 2 John viii. 13-18. 



88 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Jesus answered, " Ye neither know me, nor my Father : if 
ye had known me, ye should have known my Father also. I 
go my way ; and ye shall seek me, and shall die in your sins : 
whither I go ye cannot come. Ye are from "beneath ; I am 
from above : ye are of this world ; I am not of this world. 
I said, therefore, unto you, that ye shall die in your sins ; for, 
if ye believe not that I am he, ye shall die in your sins." 

They responded, " Who art thou ? " 

Jesus, evading an explicit answer, replied, u Even the same 
that I said unto you from the beginning. I have many things 
to say and to judge of you : but He that sent me is true ; and 
I speak to the world those things which I have heard of him. 
When ye have lifted up the Son of man, then shall ye know 
that I am he, and that I do nothing of myself; but, as my 
Father hath taught me, I speak these things. And He that 
sent, me is with me : the Father hath not left me alone ; for 
I do always those things that please him." 

We are informed that many were convinced by these words 
that Jesus was the Messiah. Addressing them, he said, " If 
ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed ; and 
ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." 

But his opponents rejoined, "We be Abraham's seed, and 
were never in bondage to any man. How sayest thou, Ye 
shall be made free ? " 

Jesus replied, " Verily, verily, I say unto you, Whosoever 
committeth sin is the servant of sin. And the servant abideth 
not in the house forever ; but the Son abideth ever. If the 
Son, therefore, shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed. I 
know that ye are Abraham's seed ; but ye seek to kill me be- 
cause my word hath no place in you. I speak that which I 
have seen with my Father ; and ye do that which ye have seen 
with your father." 

"Abraham," said they, "is our father." 

Jesus replied, "If ye were Abraham's children, ye^ would do 
the works of Abraham. But now ye seek to kill me, a man 
that hath told you the truth, which I have heard of God : this 
did not Abraham. Ye do the deeds of your father." 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 89 

Then said they unto him, " We be not born of fornication. 
We have one Father, even God." 

" If God were your Father," Jesus rejoined, " ye would love 
me ; for I proceeded forth and came from God. Neither came 
I of myself; but he sent me. Why do ye not understand my 
speech ? because ye cannot hear my word. Ye are of your 
father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. - He 
was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the 
truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a 
lie, he speaketh of his own ; for he is a liar, and the father of 
it. And, because I tell you the truth, ye believe not. Which 
of you convinceth me of sin ? And, if I say the truth, why 
do ye not believe me ? He that is of God heareth God's 
word. Ye, therefore, hear them not, because ye are not of 
God." 

The rulers, growing more and more exasperated by this 
plainness of speech, replied, " Say we not well that thou art a 
Samaritan, and hast a devil ? " 

Jesus answered, "I have not a devil; but I honor my 
Father, and ye do dishonor me. And I seek not mine own 
glory : there is one that seeketh and judgeth. Verily, verily, 
I say unto you, If a man keep my saying, he shall never see 
death." 

His opponents replied, "Now we know that thou hast a 
devil. Abraham is dead, and the prophets ; and thou sayest, 
If a man keep my saying, he shall never taste of death. 
Art thou greater than our father Abraham, which is dead ? 
and the prophets are dead. Whom makest thou thyself ? " 

Jesus answered, "If I honor myself, my honor is nothing. 
It is my Father that honoreth me, of whom ye say that he is 
your God. Yet ye have not known him. But I know him ; 
and, if I should say I know him not, I shall be a liar like 
unto you : but I know him, and keep his saying. Your 
father Abraham rejoiced to see my day; and he saw it, and 
was glad." 

Then said the Jews, " Thou art not yet fifty years old ; and 
hast thou seen Abraham ? " 



90 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Jesus replied, " Before Abraham was, I am." 

The exasperation of his foes now exceeded all hounds, and 
they began to pick up stones to stone him ; but Jesus, exer- 
cising that marvellous power by which he had before extricated 
himself from the violence of his enemies, quietly retired from 
the temple, passing through the midst of them. 

Entering the streets of the city, he met a man blind from 
his birth. His disciples asked the question which has been re- 
echoed by all thoughtful minds from that day to this : " Mas- 
ter, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born 
blind?" 

Jesus replied, that his calamity was not to be attributed to 
any particular sin of himself or his parents. " Neither hath 
this man sinned, nor his parents ; but that the works of God 
should be made manifest in him. I must work the works of 
Him that sent me while it is day : the night cometh, when no 
man can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light 
of the world." 

He then anointed the eyes of the blind man with clay 
moistened with spittle, and directed him to wash in the Pool 
of Siloam. He did so, and his sight was restored. It was 
the sabbath day. The Pharisees, enraged, said, " This man is 
not of God, because he keepeth not the sabbath day." Others, 
however, replied, "How can a man that is a sinner do such 
miracles ? " And thus all Jerusalem was agitated by diversity 
of opinion. The rulers, in their madness, had passed a decree, 
that, if any one should confess that he believed that Christ 
was the Messiah, he should be put out of the synagogue ; that 
is, he should be exposed to the terrible doom of excommuni- 
cation, which was attended with awful maledictions, exclu- 
sion from all intercourse with society, and which prohibited 
every one from ministering in any way whatever to his wants. 

Still the excitement in the city was every hour rising higher 
and higher. The blind man was universally known. His 
miraculous cure no one could deny. Neither the blind man 
nor his parents dared to avow their belief that Jesus was the 
Messiah. When the parents were questioned, they referred 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 91 

the questioner to their son, saying, " He is of age : ask him." 
When the son was questioned, he was equally cautious in his 
responses. The Pharisees who approached him said, " Give 
God the praise : we know that this man is a sinner." 

He replied, " Whether he he a sinner or no, I know not. 
One thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see." 

To their reiterated inquiry, " How opened he thine eyes $ " 
he replied, somewhat provoked, " I have told you already, and 
ye did not hear. Wherefore would ye hear it again ? Will 
ye, also, be his disciples ? " 

This taunt increased their exasperation : and they retorted, 
" Thou art his disciple ; but we are Moses' disciples. We know 
that God spake unto Moses : as for this fellow, we know not 
from whence he is." 

With unexpected boldness, the man rejoined, " Why, herein 
is a marvellous thing, that ye know not whence he is ; and yet 
he hath opened mine eyes. Now, we know that God heareth 
not sinners ; but if any man be a worshipper of God, and 
doeth his will, him he heareth. Since the world began was it 
not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was born 
blind. If this man were not of God, he could do nothing." 

For this speech, cautious as it was, the rulers excommuni- 
cated the man. Jesus heard of it, and went in search of him. 
Having found him, he inquired, " Dost thou believe on the Son 
of God ? " The man replied, " Who is he, Lord, that I might 
believe on him ? " Jesus said, " Thou hast both seen him, and 
it is he that talketh with thee." 

To this emphatic declaration, that Jesus was the Messiah, 
the man replied, "Lord, I believe." The inspired historian 
adds, " And he worshipped him ; " that is, paid homage to him 
as the Messiah. 

Jesus then delivered to those who had gathered around him 
the parable of the good shepherd, and explained it, saying, — 

" I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am 
known of mine. As the Father knoweth me, even so know I 
the Father ; and I lay down my life for the sheep. And other 
sheep I have, which are not of this fold. Them also I must 



92 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

bring, and they shall hear my voice ; and there shall he one 
fold and one shepherd. Therefore doth my Father love me, 
because I lay down my life that I might take it again. No 
man taketh it from me ; but I lay it down of myself. I have 
power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This 
commandment have I received of my Father." 

Such remarks as these increased the excitement and the 
diversity of opinion which prevailed respecting Jesus. Many 
of them said, "He hath a devil, and is mad: why hear ye 
him ? " Others said, " These are not the words of him that 
hath a devil : can a devil open the eyes of the blind ? " 

It is probable, that, after this, Jesus returned to Capernaum 
in Galilee. Two months passed, during which he was un- 
doubtedly active in his mission ; but we have no record what- 
ever of any thing which he said or did. The feast of the 
dedication commenced on the fifteenth day of December, and 
continued eight days. We find Jesus again at Jerusalem. 
The record of John is as follows : — 

" And it was at Jerusalem the feast of the dedication, and 
it was winter. And Jesus walked in the temple, in Solomon's 
porch. Then came the Jews round about him, and said unto 
him, How long dost thou make us to doubt ? If thou be the 
Christ, tell us plainly." 

Jesus replied, " I told you, and ye believed not. The works 
that I do in my Father's name, they bear witness of me. But 
ye believe not, because ye are not of my sheep, as I said unto 
you. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they 
follow me : and I give unto them eternal life ; and they shall 
never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my 
hand. I and my Father are one." 1 

This assertion of the oneness of Jesus with the Father so 
exasperated the unbelieving Jews, that they took up stones to 
stone him. Jesus said to them, "Many good works have I 
showed you from my Father : for which of those works do 
ye stone me ? " 

They replied, " For a good work we stone thee not, but for 

i John x. 25-31. 



TEACHINGS) AND MIRACLES OF SEALING. 93 

blasphemy, and because that thou, being a man, makest thy- 
self God." 

Jesus replied in words which the Jews understood to be re- 
affirming his statement, "Is it not written in your law, I said, 
Ye are gods ? If he called them gods unto whom the word 
of God came, and the scripture cannot be broken, say ye of 
him whom the Father hath sanctified and sent into the world, 
Thou blasphemest, because I said I am the Son of God ? 
If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not ; but if 
I do, though ye believe not me, believe the works ; that ye 
may know and believe that the Father is in me, and I in him." 

This renewed assertion of his equality with God induced 
the Jews again to take up stones to stone him ; " but he es- 
caped out of their hands." Leaving Jerusalem, he crossed 
the Biver Jordan, and entered that wilderness region which had 
been rendered memorable by the preaching and the baptism of 
John. There, at a distance of about a hundred miles from 
his implacable foes, beneath the shadows of Mount Gilead, he 
resumed preaching the gospel to the multitudes of the common 
people who resorted to hear him. It is written that " many 
believed on him there." 

A few miles east from Jerusalem there was the little village 
of Bethany, where a man by the name of Lazarus resided 
with his two sisters, Martha and Mary. They were the warm 
friends of Jesus, and their dwelling had been one of his 
favorite resorts. Lazarus was taken sick. His sisters imme- 
diately sent word to Jesus, who, in the wilderness, was one or 
two days' journey from Bethany. Jesus, instead of hurrying 
to his afflicted friends, said calmly to the messenger, " This sick- 
ness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son 
of God might be glorified thereby." Two days passed by ; and 
then he said to his disciples, " Let us go into Judsea again." 
They endeavored to dissuade him, saying, " Master, the Jews 
of late sought to stone thee ; and goest thou thither again ? " 
He, however, informed his disciples that Lazarus was dead, and 
intimated to them that he must go to raise him from the grave. 

Accompanied by his disciples, he reached Bethany. Martha 



94 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

hastened to meet him before he entered the town, and gently- 
reproached him, yet in terms expressive of her unbounded 
confidence. "Lord, if thou hadst been here," she said, "my 
brother had not died ; but I know that even now, whatsoever 
thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee." 

" Thy brother," said Jesus, " shall rise again." 

" I know," Martha rejoined, " that he shall rise again in the 
resurrection at the last day." 

Jesus replied, "I am the resurrection and the life. 1 He 
that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live ; 
and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. 
Believest thou this?" 

u Yea, Lord," Martha replied : " I believe that thou art the 
Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world." 

Mary soon joined her sister, and, falling at the feet of Jesus, 
exclaimed, " Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not 
died. When Jesus, therefore, saw her weeping, and the Jews 
also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit, 
and was troubled, and said, Where have ye laid him ? " 

Together they went to the tomb, where the body was already 
mouldering to corruption. When they reached the tomb, Jesus 
wept. He directed the stone which was the door of the tomb 
to be moved. Then, lifting his eyes to heaven, he said, — 

" Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I 
knew that thou hearest me always; but because of the people 
which stand by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast 
sent me." 

Then in a loud voice, addressing the dead, he exclaimed, 
" Lazarus, come forth ! " Immediately Lazarus, embarrassed 
by the wrappings of the grave-clothes, rose, and came out from 
the tomb, and returned to his home with his friends. 

This miracle led many of the Jews to accept Jesus as the 
Messiah. But it only exasperated the Pharisees, and they 
met together to devise some plan by which they could secure 
his destruction. We are informed, that, consequently, " Jesus 
walked no more openly among the Jews, but went thence 

1 The Author of the resurrection, and the Giver of eternal life. 



TEACHINGS, AND MIRACLES OF HEALING. 95 

unto a country near to the wilderness, into a city called Ephra- 
im." 

This was probably a small town several miles north-east 
from Jerusalem. We know not how long Jesus remained here 
with his disciples, and we have no record either of his sayings 
or doings while in this place. The inspired penman informs 
us, " When the time was come that he should be received up, 
he steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem." * 

* Luke ix. 51. 



CHAPTER IV. 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL TO HIS DISCIPLES. 



Journey to Jerusalem. — Mission of the Seventy. — Jesus teaches his Disciples to 
pray. — Lament over Jerusalem, r- Return to Galilee. — The Second Coming of 
Christ. — Dangers of the Rich. — Promise to his Disciples. — Foretells his 
Death.— Zacchaeus. — Mary anoints Jesus.— Enters Jerusalem. — Drives the 
Traffickers from the Temple. —The Pharisees try to entrap him. — The De- 
struction of Jerusalem, and the Second Coming. — Judas agrees to betray 
Jesus. — The Last Supper. — The Prayer of Jesus. 



S Jesus was journeying back from Ephraim to 
Jerusalem with his disciples, he entered a town 
of the Samaritans, where the inhabitants, learn- 
ing that he was on his way to Jerusalem, did 
not give him a hospitable reception. Two of 
his disciples, James and John, were so indignant 
at their conduct, that they asked for authority to 
command fire from heaven to consume them. Jesus mildly 
rebuked them, saying, " Ye know not what manner of spirit ye 
are of ; for the Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, 
but to save them.' 7 And he passed on to another village. 

As they were toiling along over the shadowless plains, an 
enthusiastic convert came to him, saying, " Lord, I will follow 
thee whithersoever thou goest." Jesus replied, " Foxes have 
holes, and birds of the air have nests ; but the Son of man 
hath not where to lay his head." 1 

Though he thus gently repelled this man, — who, perhaps, 
expected to derive some considerable worldly advantage from 
following him, — to another whom he met he said, "Follow 

» Luke ix. 68. 
90 




LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 9? 

me." But this man made an excuse, — apparently a very 
sufficient one, — saying, "Lord, suffer me first to go and bury 
my father." Jesus replied, "Let the dead bury their dead; 
but go thou and preach the kingdom of God." 

There were doubtless circumstances in this case, with which 
we are not familiar, which justified this seemingly harsh reply. 
The meaning was quite obvious, — " Let those who are dead in 
sin take care of the dead ; " and Jesus doubtless meant to teach 
by this that nothing whatever is to be allowed to divert the 
mind from religion. When another said, " Lord, I will follow 
thee ; but let me first go bid them farewell which are at home 
at my house," he replied, " No man, having put his hand to the 
plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." 

"After these things," it is written, "the Lord appointed 
other seventy also, and sent them two and two before his face 
into every city and place whither he himself would come." He 
gave them the same directions, and almost in the same words, 
which he had previously given to the twelve apostles. As 
these disciples returned from their short but important mis- 
sion to preach the gospel, they said joyfully, " Lord, even the 
devils are subject unto us through thy name." Jesus made the 
memorable reply, — 

"I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven. Behold, I 
give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and 
over all the power of the enemy ; and nothing shall by any 
means hurt you. Notwithstanding, in this rejoice not that 
the spirits are subject unto you ; but rather rejoice because 
your names are written in heaven." 

A lawyer, one whose profession was to study the Jewish 
law, feigning a desire to be instructed, and yet probably seek- 
ing to entrap him, asked, " Master, what shall I do to inherit 
eternal life ? " 

Jesus replied, " What is written in the law ? How readest 
thou?" 

The lawyer replied, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God 
with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy 
strength ; and thy neighbor as thyself." 



98 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Jesus responded, " Thou hast answered right. This do, and 
thou shalt live." 

But the lawyer was by no means satisfied by this simple 
announcement of duty, and in a cavilling spirit inquired, 
" And who is my neighbor ? " 

Jesus replied in the beautiful parable of the Good Samari- 
tan. 1 

On his way to Jerusalem, he visited Bethany, the home of 
Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. As he drew near to Jerusalem, 
which was to be the scene of his fearful sufferings, he was 
much engaged in prayer. It is recorded, "And it came to 
pass, as he was praying in a certain place, when he ceased, 
one of his disciples said unto him, Lord, teach us to pray, as 
John also taught his disciples. And he said unto them, 
When ye pray, say, — 

" Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. 
Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so in 
earth. Give us day by day our daily bread. And forgive us 
our sins ; for we also forgive every one that is indebted to us. 
And lead us not into temptation ; but deliver us from evil." 2 

This prayer is precisely the same in spirit, and almost the 
same in words, with that which Jesus gave in the Sermon on 
the Mount, and was followed with very similar instructions, 
urging importunity in prayer. In this discourse he introduced 
the parables of the rich man, the wise steward, the unfaithful 
servant, and the barren fig-tree. 

While engaged in these various works of instruction and 
healing, he, on his tour of mercy, again visited Galilee. 
Some of the Jews came to him, and urged him to leave the 
dominions of Herod, as Herod was seeking to kill him. 
Jesus replied, — 

" Go ye and tell that fox, Behold, I cast out devils, and I do 
cures to-day and to-morrow, and the third day I shall be per- 
fected." It is supposed that Herod had cunningly sent these 
men, hoping thus to frighten Jesus out of his realms. The 
reply, which was somewhat proverbial, was simply, " Tell 

* Luke x. 30-37. a Luke xi. 3-4. 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 99 

Herod not to be troubled. I am not violating the laws : I am 
engaged in works of mercy. For two or three days more I 
shall remain in his domains, and shall then go to Jerusalem • 
there my course will be ended." Jesus added, — 

" Nevertheless, I must walk to-day and to-morrow and the 
day following; for it cannot be that a prophet perish out 
of Jerusalem. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest ihe 
prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee ! how often 
would I have gathered thy children together as a hen doth 
gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not ! Be- 
hold, your house is left unto you desolate ; and verily I say 
unto you, Ye shall not see me until the time come when ye 
shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the 
Lord." 

Unremittingly Jesus continued in his walks of usefulness, 
preaching the gospel, healing the sick, comforting the afflicted, 
and silencing the cavils of his foes. The record we have of 
these tireless labors is very brief, and apparently without re- 
gard to chronology. It was probably at this time that he 
uttered the parables of the wedding and of the great supper. 1 

Multitudes continually thronged around him. To them he 
said, " If any man come to me, and hate not his father and 
mother, and wife and children, and brethren and sisters, yea, 
and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple." In Scripture 
phrase, " to hate " often signifies to love less. This was a decla- 
ration that Christ was to be loved supremely. ISTo one could 
be his disciple who was not willing to forsake all earthly pos- 
sessions and friends, if need be r for his cause. 2 

The self-righteous Pharisees complained that "this man 
receiveth sinners, and eateth with them." Jesus replied in 
the beautiful parables of the lost sheep, the lost piece of 
money, and that most impressive, perhaps, of all his parables, 
the prodigal son ; assuring poor sinners that not only God, 
with parental love, welcomed their return to him, but that 
there was joy in the presence of the angels of God over one 
repentant sinner. 

i Luke xiy. 9-25. * Luke xiv. 1-24. 



tOO BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Each parable seems to have been a reply to some inqciirjr, 
remark, or opposition, on the part of those who listened tc 
him. 1 Thus he introduced the parable of the unjust steward, 
and of the rich man and Lazarus. 1 

In this latter parable, it is clearly taught that the soul, im- 
mediately upon death, proceeds to a state of reward or of pun- 
ishment ; and as flame causes the most direful material anguish, 
so sin causes the acutest suffering of which the immaterial 
nature is susceptible. 

Jesus was now on his route to Jerusalem through the vil- 
lages and cities of Galilee and Samaria. He crossed the 
Jordan, and preached in the rural districts beyond T-arge 
multitudes followed him It is impossible now to ascertain 
the route he took in these journeyings. The Pharisees asked 
when the kingdom of God — that is, the reign of t T e Messiah 
— should commence. . He made the memorable reply, which is 
still read with awe, as indicative of scenes of bnspeakable sub- 
limity and terror yet to come : — 

" As the lightning, that lighteneth out of the one part under 
heaven, shineth unto the other part under heaven ; so shall 
also the Son of man be in his day. But first must he suffer 
many things, and be rejected of this generation. And as it 
was in the days of Noe, so shall it be also in the days of the 
Son of man : they did eat, they drank, they married wives, 
they were given in marriage, until the day that Noe entered 
into the ark, and the flood came, and destroyed them all. 

" Likewise, also, as it was in the days of Lot : they did 
eat, they drank, they bought, they sold, they planted, they 
builded; but the same day that Lot went out of Sodom it 
rained fire and brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them 
all. Even thus shall it be in the day when the Son of man is 
revealed." 2 

In these revelations of awful scenes to come, there is an ap- 
parent blending of the terrible suffering which was soon to 
befall Jerusalem in its utter overthrow and of the final com- 
ing of Christ at the day of judgment. 

i Luke xvi. 1-31. a Luke xvii. 24-30. 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 101 

Again he urged persevering prayer by the parable of the 
importunate widow, 1 and enjoined humility by the parable of 
the Pharisee and the publican. 2 The question of divorce was 
presented to him, with the statement that Moses had allowed 
it for very trivial causes. Jesus replied, that, in the eyes 
of God, divorce and subsequent marriage could only be justified 
upon the ground of a violation of the marriage oath. 3 

Some children were brought to him to be blessed. He laid 
his hands upon their heads, and prayed ; and then said, " Who- 
soever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child 
shall in no wise enter therein." 

A young man of wealth, and, as a ruler, occupying posts of 
honor, came to Jesus, and, rather boastfully asserting that he 
had kept all the commandments from his youth up, inquired 
what more he must do that he might enter the kingdom of 
God. It is said that Jesus, looking upon the ingenuous 
young man of unblemished morals, " loved him, and said 
unto him, One thing thou lackest : go thy way ; sell whatso- 
ever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have 
treasure in heaven ; and come, take up the cross, and follow 
me." 

This was merely reiterating the declaration, that every one 
who wc uld be a disciple of Jesus must be willing, at his com- 
mand, to make any sacrifice whatever. The test proved that 
the young man loved wealth more than Christ. " He went 
away sorrowful ; for he had great possessions." 

It is recorded, when Jesus saw that he was very sorrowful, 
he said, "How hard is it for them that trust in riches to 
enter into the kingdom of God ! " Then, using an expression 
proverbial for denoting any thing remarkably difficult, he 
added, "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a 
needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God." 

Peter, who, since the severe rebuke administered to him by 
Jesus, seems to have been very retiring, said, " Lo, we have 
left all, and have followed thee. What shall we have, there- 
fore ? " Jesus replied, — 

i Luke xii. 5-8. * Luke xviii. 11-14. 3 Matt. xix. 3-12. 



102 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

"Verily I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in 
the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in the throne 
of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the 
twelve tribes of Israel. And every one that hath forsaken 
houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or 
children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hun- 
dred-fold, and shall inherit everlasting life." 1 

It is supposed that Jesus was at this time on the eastern 
side of Jordan, nearly opposite Jericho. The reply to Peter 
was followed by the parable of the householder and his labor- 
ers. Jesus crossed the ford, and, entering Judaea, directed 
his steps towards Jerusalem. His disciples, conscious of the 
peril to which he would expose himself in the metropolis, 
were amazed and afraid. Jesus called the twelve around 
him, and said to them, — 

"Behold, we go up to Jerusalem ; and the Son of man shall 
be delivered unto the chief priests, and unto the scribes ; and 
they shall condemn him to death, and shall deliver him to 
the Gentiles ; and they shall mock him, and shall scourge him, 
and shall spit upon him, and shall kill him; and the third 
day he shall rise again." 2 

The idea that the Messiah could be put to death — He who 
had power to bring the dead to life — was so incomprehensible 
to the apostles, that they could not receive the meaning of his 
words. They, however, walked along, conversing as they 
went ; and both Matthew and Mark record several of the 
memorable sayings of Jesus by the way. 3 

As they drew near to Jericho, a blind man, waiting for him 
by the wayside, earnestly implored relief. Jesus restored his 
lost vision, simply saying, " Receive thy sight : thy faith hath 
saved thee." 

From Jericho, which was about twenty miles north-east from 
Jerusalem, they continued their journey, followed by an im- 
mense multitude. Two blind men, as Jesus approached, loudly 



* Matt. xix. 29. a Mark x. 33, 34. 

3 Matt. xx. 26-28: Mark x. 43-45. 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 103 

implored his aid. He touched their eyes, and immediately 
their eyes received sight. 

A rich man, named Zacchseus, a chief publican, being of short 
stature, climbed a tree that he might see Jesus as he passed. 
Jesus called him down, saying, "To-day I must abide at 
thy house." Zacchseus hastened down, and received Jesus 
with great cordiality. Again there was murmuring because 
Jesus was " guest with a man that is a sinner." It seems that 
Zacchseus was in heart a better man than he was in repute : 
for Jesus said, " This day is salvation come to this house ; for- 
asmuch as he also is a son of Abraham." Then, in allusion to 
the charge that he associated with sinners, he said, "For the 
Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost." 
Notwithstanding what Jesus had said respecting his ap- 
proaching sufferings and death at Jerusalem, his disciples still 
expected that there would be some signal displays of his power 
there in the establishment of a glorious reign. Jesus, there- 
fore, addressed them in the parable of the nobleman and his 
servants. 

Six days before the passover, Jesus reached Bethany. A 
very careful computation has led to the opinion that this was 
on the 30th of March, the year of our Lord 30. A supper 
was provided for him at the house of Lazarus, Martha, and 
Mary. Lazarus sat at the table. The grateful Mary, taking 
an "alabaster box of ointment very precious," anointed the 
head and the feet of Jesus. The house was filled with the 
fragrant odor. The estimated value of this was about fifty 
dollars, — a much larger sum in those days than now. 

Several who were present considered it an act of great ex- 
travagance. That sum, distributed among the poor, would have 
relieved much distress. Judas Iscariot, who was the treasurer 
of the little band, murmured loudly, saying, " Why was not 
this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the 
poor ? " " This he said," John adds, " not that he cared for the 
poor, but because he was a thief, and had the bag, and bare 
what was put therein." 

But Jesus commended the deed in the remarkable words, 



104 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

" She hath wrought a good work on me : for ye have the pool 
always with you, and, whenever ye will, ye may do them good ; 
but me ye have not always. She hath done what she could. 
She has come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying. 
Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be 
preached in the whole world, there shall also thi&, that this 
woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her." * 

Curiosity to see Lazarus, as well as to see Jesus, assembled 
an immense crowd around the house. The raising of Lazarus 
from the dead, and his daily appearance, were evidence of the 
miraculous powers of Jesus which no argument could refute. 
The chief priests were so malignant that they consulted to put 
Lazarus to death, " because that by reason of him many of the 
. Jews believed on Jesus." 

Leaving Bethany, — which, it will be remembered, was but 
about two miles east of Jerusalem, on the eastern declivity of 
the Mount of Olives, — Jesus advanced toward Jerusalem. As 
the rumor of his approach was circulated through the streets, 
a vast throng poured out at the gates to meet him. They bore 
branches of palm-trees in their hands, and shouted, as they 
escorted him in triumph, " Hosanna ! Blessed is the King of 
Israel that cometh in the name of the Lord ! " 2 Near a ham- 
let at the Mount of Olives, Jesus procured a young ass which 
had never been mounted. His disciples spread some of their 
garments on the ass, and Jesus took his seat thereon. A con- 
queror would have wished to enter the city on a spirited war- 
horse gayly caparisoned. Jesus studiously avoided all such 
parade. The overjoyed multitude, however, "spread their gar- 
ments in the way ; others cut down branches from the trees, 
and strewed them in the way. And the multitudes that went 
before and that followed cried, saying, Hosanna to the Son of 
David ! Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord ! 
Hosanna in the highest ! " 3 

As Jesus, thus accompanied, commenced the western descent 
of the Mount of Olives, the whole city lay spread out as a 
panorama before him. "And, when he was come near, he 

i Matt. xxvi. 10-13. » John xU. 12, 13. » Matt. xxi. 8, 9. 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 105 

beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, 
even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto 
thy peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the 
days shall come .upon thee that thine enemies shall cast a 
trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in 
on every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and 
thy children within thee ; and they shall not leave in thee one 
stone upon another ; because thou knewest not the time of thy 
visitation." l 

The whole city of Jerusalem was agitated by the coming of 
Jesus, the now widely-renowned prophet of Galilee. Jesus 
proceeded at once to the temple. The blind and the lame 
were brought iu throngs to him. He healed them all. The 
city resounded with his acclaim. Even the children in the 
streets shouted, " Hosanna to the Son of David ! " The chief 
priests and the scribes were sorely annoyed, saying, "The 
world has gone after him." 

Some Greeks who were in Jerusalem came to the disciples, 
and expressed a wish to see Jesus. They were brought to 
him. Jesus, probably addressing them, said, — 

" The hour is come that the Son of man should be glorified. 
Verily I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the 
ground, and die, it abideth alone; but, if it die, it bringeth 
forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it ; and 
he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life 
eternal. If any man serve me, let him follow me ; and where 
I am, there shall also my servant be. If any man serve me, him 
will my Father honor. Now is my soul troubled ; and what 
shall I say ? Father^ save me from this hour ; but for this 
cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name." It 
is added, " Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I 
have both glorified it, and will glorify it again." 

All who stood by heard the supernatural noise, and some 
the distinctly-articulated voice, and said, " An angel spake to 
him." Jesus answered, — 

" This voice came not because of me, but for your sakes. Now 

i Luke xix. 41-43. 



106 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

is the judgment of this world ; now shall the prince of this 
world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will 
draw all men unto me." " This/' adds the inspired writer, 
" he said, signifying what death he should die." 

The people, bewildered by such assertions, replied, "We 
have heard out of the law that Christ abideth forever ; and 
how sayest thou, The. Son of man must be lifted up? Who 
is this Son of man ? " 

Jesus answered, " Yet a little while is the light with you. 
Walk while ye have the light, lest darkness come upon you ; for 
he that walketh in darkness knoweth not whither he goeth. 
While ye have the light, believe in the light, that ye may be 
the children of light." 

Jesus, after these words, withdrew secretly with his disciples 
from the city (for it was night), and returned to Bethany. In 
the morning, he came back to Jerusalem. Being hungry, and 
seeing a fig-tree by the way, he went to it, and found leaves 
only. We know not now what lesson Jesus intended to teach 
us : he said, " Let no fruit grow on thee henceforward forever." 
The tree withered away. Again, finding the temple sacri- 
legiously perverted to purposes of traffic, he, by his authori- 
tative person and voice, drove the traffickers out, saying, 
" It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer j 
but ye have made it a den of thieves." 

The scribes and chief priests were becoming more and more 
exasperated by these reproofs. But they feared to lay violent 
hands upon Jesus, he was so popular with the masses of the 
people. He continued through the day teaching the crowds 
ever thronging the temple to listen to his calm, impressive 
words. At the approach of evening, he returned to the quietude 
of Bethany, and in the morning re-entered the city. As he 
was teaching in the temple, the chief priests and scribes came 
and inquired of him by what authority he did these things. 
Jesus bafned their malignity by asking them what they thought 
of the prophet John. They were greatly annoyed. If they 
should say he was a prophet, Jesus would inquire why they 
did not believe in him. If, on the other hand, they should say 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 107 

that he was hut a common man, the indignation of the people 
would be aroused ; for they all regarded John as a prophet. 
They therefore said, " We cannot tell." Jesus replied, " Nei- 
ther do I tell you by what authority I do these things." Hav- 
ing thus silenced them, and put them to shame, Jesus addressed 
them in the parable of the father and his two sons, and then 
in the parable of the vineyard let out to husbandmen. 1 

He made such personal application of these parables as to 
leave no doubt in the minds of the scribes and Pharisees that 
he referred to them. " But, when they sought to lay hands 
upon him, they feared the multitude, because they took him for 
a prophet." Another parable he added, that of the marriage- 
feast, illustrative of the same truth, that the Gentiles would 
enter the kingdom of God, which the Jews refused to enter. 

The Pharisees endeavored to entrap him by inducing him to 
say something which would render him unpopular with the 
people. After much deliberation, they sent some spies to him 
to inquire whether it were lawful to pay tribute to Caesar, who 
had conquered and enslaved them. If he should say " No," it 
would be treason : if he should say " Yes," it would exasperate 
the people. 

Jesus, " knowing their hypocrisy, said unto them, Why 
tempt ye me ? Bring me a penny. And they brought it. 
And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and super- 
scription ? They said unto him, Caesar's. .Jesus, answering, 
said, Bender to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to 
God the things that are God's." It is added, "They mar- 
velled, and left him, and went their way." 

Again : the Sadducees, who denied the doctrine of the resur- 
rection, inquired of him whose wife a woman in the resurrec- 
tion would be, who had married, one after another, seven hus- 
bands. Their cavilling spirit was silenced by the reply, that, 
in the future world, those who should " rise from the dead " 
would not marry, but would be as the angels of God in heaven. 3 
He then re-affirmed the doctrine of a future life, saying — 

i Matt. xxi. 28-42. 

* Matt. xxi. 24-30; Mark xii. 18-25; Luke xx. 27-36. 



108 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

"Now, that the dead are raised, even Moses showed at the 
bush, when he calleth the Lord the God of Abraham, and 
the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob ; for he is not the 
God of the dead, but of the living." 1 

The Pharisees were quite pleased in finding the Sadducees 
thus confounded. Still they sought the destruction of Jesus. 
After taking counsel together, they commissioned one of their 
lawyers to ask which was the chief commandment of the law. 
Among these ritualists, there was quite a diversity of opinion 
upon this subject. Some said, "Sacrifices; " others, "Circum- 
cision ; " others, " The law of the sabbath," &c. Jesus re- 
plied, — 

" The first of all the commandments is, Hear, Israel ! 
The Lord our God is one Lord. Thou shalt love the Lord thy 
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy 
mind : this is the first and great commandment. And the 
second is like unto it : Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy- 
self. On these two commandments hang all the law and the 
prophets." 2 It is recorded, "No man, after this, durst ask him 
any question." 

Jesus now, in his turn, asked the Pharisees a question, to 
show them the divine character of the Messiah, and how far 
their views of his dignity fell short of the truth. 

"What think ye of Christ? whose son is he?" They re- 
plied, "The son of David." Jesus rejoined, "How, then, doth 
David, by the Holy Ghost, call him Lord, saying, The Lord 
said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand till I make 
thine enemies thy footstool ? If David, then, call him Lord, 
how is he his son ? " 

They again being thus baffled, it is recorded, "And no man 
was able to answer him a word." 

Jesus then warned his disciples to beware of the pride, am- 
bition, and ostentation of the scribes; of their ceremonial 
display, and of their moral corruption. In the temple were 
placed several money-boxes to receive the voluntary contribu- 
tions of the people for the service of the temple. Jesus no- 

i Luke xx. 37, 38. z Matt. xxii. 32. 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 109 

ticed the people as they came with their contributions, — many 
of the rich casting in large sums, not at all unwilling that the 
amount should be known by the lookers-on. "And there came 
a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a 
farthing. And he called unto him his disciples, and saith 
unto them, Of a truth I say unto you, that this poor widow 
hath cast in more than they all : for all these have of their 
abundance cast in unto the offerings of God ; but she, of her 
penury, hath cast in all the living that she hath." 1 

Notwithstanding the abounding evidence of the divine mis- 
sion of Jesus, there were many who hardened their hearts, 
and who refused to believe in him. Others there were, then 
as now, who, though they were convinced of his Messiah- 
ship, had not sufficient moral courage to confess him before 
men. It is recorded, "Nevertheless, among the chief rulers, 
also, many believed on him : but, because of the Pharisees 
they did not confess him, lest they should be put out of the 
synagogue ; for they loved the praise of men more than the 
praise of God." 2 

In reference to all who thus rejected him, Jesus exclaimed, 
" He that believeth on me, believeth, not on me, but on Him 
that sent me ; and he that seeth me seeth Him that sent me. 
I am come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth on 
me should not abide in darkness. And if any man hear my 
words, and believe not, I judge him not ; for I came not to 
judge the world, but to save the world. He that rejecteth 
me, and receiveth not my words, hath one that judgeth him : 
the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the 
last day. For I have not spoken of myself ; but the Father 
which sent me, he gave me a commandment what I should 
say and what I should speak. And I know that his command- 
ment is life everlasting : whatsoever I speak, therefore, even 
as the Father said unto me, so I speak." 3 

He then, addressing the multitude, warned them in the most 
solemn manner to avoid the hypocrisy and haughty display of 
these proud and pompous ceremonialists. His denunciations 

i Luke xxi. 3. 4. » Luke xii. 42, 43. » j hn xii. 44-50. 



110 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

of them were terrible, and must have roused them to the 
highest pitch of rage. 

" Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! " he said, 
" for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against men ; for ye 
neither go in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are enter- 
ing to go in. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypo- 
crites S for ye devour widows' houses, and, for a pretence, 
make long prayer : therefore ye shall receive the greater dam- 
nation. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for 
ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte ; and, when he 
is made, ye make him twofold more the child of hell than 
yourselves," &C. 1 

A more terrible, and at the same time calm and truthful, de- 
nunciation cannot be found in any language. As Jesus left 
the temple, his disciples called his attention to the massive 
stones of which it was reared. Jesus assured them that the 
temple was to be so utterly destroyed, that not one stone should 
be left upon another. Departing from the city, he went with 
his disciples to the Mount of Olives. As he sat upon that 
eminence, which overlooked the city, he gave them an appall- 
ing account of the scenes which were to ensue at the time of 
its destruction. In reference to the persecutions which they 
were to encounter, he said, "For they shall deliver you up to 
councils, and in the synagogues ye shall be beaten; and ye 
shall be brought before rulers and kings for my sake, for a 
testimony against them. But when they shall lead you, and 
deliver you up, take no thought beforehand what ye shall 
speak, neither do ye premeditate : but whatsoever shall be 
given you in that hour, that speak ye ; for it is not ye that 
speak, but the Holy Ghost. Now, the brother shall betray the 
brother to death, and the father the son ; and children shall 
rise up against their parents, and shall cause them to be put 
to death. And ye shall be hated of all men for my name's 
sake ; but he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall 
be saved." 2 

In continuation of this wonderful discourse, and in reply to 

i See Matt, xxiii. 13-37. » Mark xiii . 9 -13. 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. Ill 

an inquiry what should he the sign of his coming and cf the 
end of the world, Jesus added, — 

"And then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in 
heaven, and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn ; and 
they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven 
with power and great glory. And he shall send his angels 
with a great sound of a trumpet ; and they shall gather to- 
gether his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven 
to the other. Verily I say unto you, This generation shall 
not pass till all these things he fulfilled." 1 He then adds, 
"But. of that day and hour knoweth no man; no, not the 
angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, hut the Father." 

There is no portion of Scripture which has occasioned more 
perplexity than these predictions of Jesus, contained in the 
twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth chapters of Matthew; and it 
may also he said that there is no portion of the New Testa- 
ment which is read with more interest, or which inspires more 
profound and religious emotion. Jesus was speaking to his 
disciples of the overthrow of Jerusalem, and of the utter de- 
struction of the temple. They said, " Tell us, when shall these 
things he ? and what shall he the sign of thy coming and of 
the end of the world ? " 

Here were two distinct questions, hut which were probably 
erroneously associated in the minds of the disciples as one. 
They probably supposed that Christ's second coming, the de- 
struction of Jerusalem, and the end of the world, were to be 
the same event. In the reply of Jesus, these events are so 
blended, that occurrences are apparently brought together which 
are actually separated by many centuries. Many suppose that 
the destruction of Jerusalem is foretold from the beginning of 
the twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew to the twenty-ninth 
verse ; that, from the twenty-ninth verse of the twenty-fourth 
chapter to the thirtieth verse of the twenty-fifth chapter, the 
second advent of Christ is foretold ; and that, from the thirty- 
first verse to the end of the chapter, Christ speaks of the final 
judgment. 

1 Matt, xxiv. 80-34. 



112 BISTORT OP CERlSTtAmTT. 

There are not a few careful students of the Bible who sup- 
pose that there are here indicated three distinct comings of 
Christ, — first, for the destruction of Jerusalem ; second, to es- 
tablish a millennial reign upon earth ; and, thirdly, his coming 
in the day of judgment at the end of the world. Upon this 
general subject, the following judicious remarks by Rev. Wil- 
liam Hanna will recommend themselves to the reader : — 

"It so happens, that, among those who have made the prov- 
ince of unfulfilled prophecy their peculiar study, the most various 
and the most discordant opinions prevail. They differ, not only 
in their interpretation of individual prophecies, but in the sys- 
tems or methods of interpretation which they employ. For 
some this region of biblical study has had a strange fascina- 
tion ; and, once drawn into it, there appears to be a great diffi- 
culty in getting out again. Perhaps the very dimness and 
doubtfulness that belong to it constitute one of its attractions. 
The lights are but few, and struggling and obscure ; yet each 
new entrant fancies he has found the clew that leads through 
the labyrinth, and, with a confidence proportioned to the diffi- 
culties he imagines he has overcome, would persuade us to 
accompany him. Instead of inclining us the more to enter, 
the very number and force of these conflicting invitations serve 
rather to repel." * 

At the conclusion of these announcements respecting the 
future, Jesus gives a very sublime description of the day of 
final judgment, in which he represents himself as seated upon 
the throne to pronounce the irreversible verdicts. 

" When the Son of man," he said, " shall come in his glory, 
and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the 
throne of his glory : and before him shall be gathered all 
nations ; and he shall separate them one from another as a 
shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats ; and he shall set 
the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then 
shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye 
blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you 
from the foundation of the world. Then shall he say also unto 
i The Life of Christ, by Rev. William B. Hanna, D.D., LL.D., p. 567. 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 113 

them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into ever- 
lasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels. And these 
shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous 
into life eternal." 1 

Having thus described himself as seated upon the throne of 
final judgment, he added the declaration so bewildering to his 
disciples, "Ye know that after two days is the feast of the 
passover, and the Son of man is betrayed to be crucified." 

The chief priests and the scribes held a council in the pal- 
ace of Caiaphas, the high priest, to devise some means by which 
they might put Jesus to death. It was not easy to rouse the 
mob against him ; for he was popular with the people. Judas 
Iscariot, probably hearing of this council, went to the chief 
priests, and agreed to betray Jesus to them by night for 
thirty pieces of silver, — about fifteen dollars. " They feared 
the people ; " and it was consequently necessary that he should 
" betray him unto them in the absence of the multitude." 

Jesus, as usual, entered Jerusalem early in the morning, and, 
all the day long, was preaching his gospel ; " and all the peo- 
ple came early in the morning to him in the temple for to hear 
him." At night, he retired to his silent retreat on the Mount 
of Olives. 

In the evening of the first day of the feast, Jesus and his 
twelve apostles met in an upper chamber at Jerusalem to par- 
take of the paschal lamb. "Jesus knew that his hour was 
come that he should depart out of this world unto the Father." 
Tenderly he loved his apostles. In this hour, when their final 
separation was so near, " he riseth from supper, laid aside his 
garments, and took a towel, and girded himself. After that, he 
poureth water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' 
feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was 
girded." 

Simon Peter, with characteristic impulsiveness, exclaimed 
remonstratingly, " Lord, dost thou wash my feet ? " 

Jesus replied, "What I do thou knowest not now. but thou 
ehalt know hereafter." 

i Matt, xxy. 31-4& 
t 



114 BISTORT OP CHRiSTIAmTY. 

But Peter still remonstrated, saying, "Thou shalt never 
wash my feet." Jesus answered, "If I wash thee not, thou 
hast no part with me." 

Then this childlike man, fickle yet heroic, exclaimed, " Lord, 
not my feet only, but also my hands and my head ! " 

Jesus rejoined, "He that is washed needeth not save to 
wash his feet, but is clean every whit." He then added, in 
allusion to Judas Iscariot, " And ye are clean, but not all." 

Having thus washed the feet of his apostles, he sat down, 
and said to them, " Know ye what I have done to you ? Ye 
call me Master and Lord : and ye say well ; for so I am. If 
I, then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, ye also 
ought to wash one another's feet ; for I have given you an ex- 
ample that ye should do as I have done to you. Verily, verily, 
I say unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord, neither 
he that is sent greater than he that sent him. If ye know 
these things, happy are ye if ye do them." 

Jesus then " took bread ; and, when he had given thanks, he 
brake it, and said, Take, eat : this is my body which is broken 
for you. This do in remembrance of me." 

While they were eating of the bread, and before they par- 
took of the cup, Jesus said to them, — 

" Behold, the hand of him that betrayeth me is with me on 
the table. And truly the Son of man goeth as it was deter- 
mined ; but woe unto that man by whom he is betrayed ! I 
speak not of you all : I know whom I have chosen : but that 
the scripture may be fulfilled, He that eateth bread with me 
hath lifted up his heel against me. Now, I tell you before it 
come, that, when it is come to pass, ye may believe that I am 
he. Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that receiveth whomso- 
ever I send receiveth me ; and he that receiveth me receiveth 
Him that sent me." 1 

John adds, " When Jesus had thus said, he was troubled in 
spirit, and testified, and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, 
that one of you shall betray me." 

This announcement created mingled feelings of surprise and 

1 John xiii. 18-21. 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 115 

grief. "The disciples looked one on another, doubting of 
whom he spake ; and they were exceeding sorrowful, and be- 
gan, every one of them, to say unto him, Lord, is it I ? " 

He replied, " It is one of the twelve that dippeth with me 
in the dish." 

John, who is represented as the favorite disciple of Jesus, 
was sitting next to him, and reclining upon his bosom. Peter 
beckoned to him to ask whom he meant. 

" Lord, who is it ? " said John. 

Jesus replied, " He it is to whom I shall give a sop when I 
have dipped it." And, when he had dipped the sop, he gave it 
to Judas Iscariot ; and, after the sop, Satan entered into him. 
Then said Jesus unto him, " That thou doest, do quickly." 1 

Judas immediately rose, and went out ; " and it was night." 
As soon as he had left, Jesus said to the remaining eleven, 
" Now is the Son of man glorified, and God is glorified in him. 
If God be glorified in him, God shall also glorify him in him- 
self, and shall straightway glorify him. Little children, yet a 
little while I am with you. Ye shall seek me ; and as I said 
unto the Jews, Whither I go ye cannot come, so now I say to 
you. A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one 
another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disci- 
ples, if ye have love one to another." 

Peter said unto him, " Lord, whither goest thou ? " 

Jesus replied, " Whither I go, thou canst not follow me now ; 
but thou shalt follow me afterwards." 

Peter rejoined, "Lord, why cannot I follow thee now? I 
will lay down my life for thy sake." 

Jesus answered, "Wilt thou lay down thy life for my sake ? 
Verily, verily, I say unto thee, The cock shall not crow till thou 
hast denied me thrice. Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath de- 
sired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat ; but I have 
prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not j and, when thou art 
converted, strengthen thy brethren." 2 

Peter rejoined, "Lord, I am ready to go with thee both into 

i John xiii. 28, 29. 

» Converted, — when thou art turned to me, after having forsaken me, 



116 BISTORT OF CHRISTIAN ITT 

prison and to death." But Jesus reiterated his assertion, u I 
tell thee, Peter, the cock shall not crow this day before that 
thou shalt thrice deny that thou knowest me." 

After this and some other conversation, Jesus <: took the 
cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye 
all of it ; for this is my blood of the new testament, which 
is shed for many for the remission of sins. For as often as 
ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show forth the 
Lord's death till he come. But I say unto you, I will not 
drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine until that day when 
I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom." 

Then, to comfort them in view of the terrible disappoint- 
ment they would encounter in his death, he said, " Let not 
your heart be troubled : ye believe in God; believe also in me. 
In my Father's house are many mansions : if it were not so, 
I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. 
And, if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, 
and receive you unto- myself, that where I am, there ye may 
be also. And whither I go ye know, and the way ye 
know." 

Thomas, one of the twelve, inquired, " Lord, we know not 
whither thou goest ; and how can we know the way ? " 

Jesus replied, " I am the way, the truth, and the life. No 
man cometh unto the Father but by me. If ye had known me, 
ye should have known my Father also ; and from henceforth 
ye know him, and have seen him." 

Philip, another of the twelve, said, " Lord, show us the Fa- 
ther, and it sufficeth us." 

Jesus replied, " Have I been so long time with you, and yet 
hast thou not known me, Philip ? He that hath seen me hath 
seen the Father ; and how sayest thou, then, Show us 'the 
Father ? Belie vest thou not that I am in the Father, and 
the Father in me ? The words that I speak unto you, I 
speak not of myself ; but the Father that dwelleth in me, he 
doeth the works. Believe me that I am in the Father, and 
the Father in me ; or else believe me for the very works' sake. 
Verily I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the worka 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 117 

that I do shall he do also ; and greater works than these 
shall he do, because I go unto the Father. 1 

" And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, 
that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask 
any thing in my name, I will do it. If ye love me, keep 
my commandments. And I will pray the Father, and he 
shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you 
forever ; even the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot re- 
ceive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him : but ye 
know him ; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you. 

" I will not leave you comfortless : I will come to you. Yet 
a little while, and the world seeth me no more; but ye see 
me. 2 Because I live, ye shall live also. At that day ye shall 
know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you. 
He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is 
that loveth me ; and he that loveth me shall be loved of my 
Father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him." 

Judas, the brother of James, and who subsequently wrote 
the Epistle of Jude, inquired, " Lord, how is it that thou wilt 
manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the world ? " 

Jesus replied, " If a man love me, he will keep my words ; 
and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and 
make our abode with him. He that loveth me not keepeth 
not my sayings ; and the word which ye hear is not mine, 
but the Father's which sent me. These things have I spoken 
unto you, being yet present with you; but the Comforter, 
which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my 
name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to 
your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you. 

" Peace I leave with you ; my peace I give unto you : not 
as the world giveth give I unto you. Let not your heart be 
troubled, neither let it be afraid. Ye have heard how I said 
unto you, I go away, and come again unto you. If ye loved 
me, ye would rejoice, because I said, I go unto the Father; for 

1 By " works " is here probably meant all that the apostles did to make an 
impression upon mankind. 

? " Yc shall continue to see me by faith." 



118 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

my Father is greater than I. And now I have told you be* 
fore it come to pass, that, when it is come to pass, ye might 
believe. Hereafter I will not talk much with you ; for the 
prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in me. But 
that the world may know that I love the Father ; and as 
the Father gave me commandment, even so I do. Arise, let 
us go hence." 

It was now probably about midnight. Jesus and his apostles 
sang a hymn, rose from the paschal supper, and went to the 
Mount of Olives. Jesus was going to be betrayed, and to 
die, with the whole scene of suffering open to his mind. His 
apostles, bewildered, and overwhelmed with grief, knew that 
something awful was about to take place ; but they scai 3ely 
comprehended what. As they walked sadly along, Jesus con- 
tinued his discourse, saying, " I am the true vine, and my Fa- 
ther is the husbandman. Every branch in me that beareth 
not fruit he taketh away; and every branch that beareth 
fruit he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit. Now 
ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you. 
As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself except it abide in the 
vine, no more can ye except ye abide in me. I am the vine : 
ye are the branches. He that abideth in me, and I in him, 
the same bringeth forth much fruit ; for without me ye can do 
nothing. 

" If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and 
is withered; and men gather them, and cast them into the 
fire, and they are burned. If ye abide in me, and my words 
abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done 
unto you. Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much 
fruit : so shall ye be my disciples. As the Father hath loved 
me, so have I loved you : continue ye in my love. These 
things have I spoken unto you that my joy might remain in 
you, and that your joy might be full. This is my command- 
ment, That ye love one another as I have loved you. Greater 
love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life 
for his friends. Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I 
command you. Henceforth I call you not servants 5 for the 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 119 

servant knoweth not what his lord doeth : but I have called 
you friends ; for all things that I have heard of my Father 
I have made known unto you. Ye have not chosen me ; but I 
have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and 
bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain; that 
whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may 
give it you. 

" These things I command you, that ye love one another. 
If the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it 
hated you. If ye were of the world, the world would love 
his own ; but because ye are not of the world, but I have 
chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you. 
If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you ; if 
they have kept my saying, they will keep yours also. But all 
these things will they do unto you for my name's sake, be- 
cause they know not Him that sent me. If I had not come 
and spoken unto them, they had not had sin ; but now they 
have no cloak for their sin. He that hateth me hateth my 
Father also. If I had not done among them the works which 
none other man did, they had not had sin; but now have 
they both seen and hated both me and my Father. But this 
'cometh to pass, that the word might be fulfilled that is written 
in their law, They hated me without a cause. But when the 
Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Fa- 
ther, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the 
Father, he shall testify of me; and ye also shall bear wit- 
ness, because ye have been with me from the beginning." 

Jesus then again warned the apostles of the sufferings to 
which they would be exposed ; entreated them to persevere ; 
assured them that he would send the Comforter to sustain 
them in every trial, who should guide them to all truth ; and 
reiterated the assertion, "I came forth from the Father, and 
am come into the world : again I leave the world, and go to 
the Father." l 

Having thus finished his farewell discourse to his apostles, 
standing with them at midnight upon the greensward outside 
i Jolm xvi. 1-33. 



120 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

of the walls of the city, with darkness and silence around, and 
the stars above, he raised his eyes to heaven, and breathed the 
most solemn, comprehensive, and impressive prayer that was 
ever uttered by mortal lips. 

"Father," said he, "the hour is come: glorify thy Son, 
that thy Son also may glorify thee : as thou hast given him 
power over all flesh, that he should give eternal life to as 
many as thou hast given him. And this is life eternal, that 
they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, 
whom thou hast sent. I have glorified thee on the earth : I have 
finished the work which thou gavest me to do. And now, O 
Father ! glorify thou me with thine own self with the glory 
which I had with thee before the world was. I have mani- 
fested thy name unto the men which thou gavest me out of the 
world : thine they were, and thou gavest them me ; and they 
have kept thy word. Now, they have known that all things 
whatsoever thou hast given me are of thee. For I have given 
unto them the words which thou gavest me ; and they have 
received. them, and have known surely that I came out from 
thee, and they have believed that thou didst send me. 

" I pray for them : I pray not for the world, but for them 
which thou hast given me ; for they are thine. And all mine 
are thine, and thine are mine ; and I am glorified in them. 
And now I am no more in the world, but these are in the 
world ; and I come to thee. Holy Father, keep through thine 
own name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be 
one as we are. While I was with them in the world, I kept 
them in thy name. Those that thou gavest me I have kept, 
and none of them is lost but the son of perdition ; that the 
scripture might be fulfilled. And now come I to thee ; and 
these things I speak in the world, that they might have my 
joy fulfilled in themselves. 

" I have given them thy word ; and the world hath hated 
them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of 
the world. I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the 
world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil. They 
are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. Sanctify 



LAST LABORS, AND FAREWELL. 121 

them through thy truth : thy word is truth. As thou hast 
sent me into the world, even so have I also sent them into the 
world. And for their sakes I sanctify myself, that they also 
might he sanctified through the truth. 

" Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall 
believe on me through their word ; that they all may be one ; 
as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be 
one in us ; that the world may believe that thou hast sent me 
And the glory which thou gavest me I have given them, that 
they may be one even as we are one : I in them, and thou in 
me, that they may be made perfect in one ; and that the world 
may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them as thou 
hast loved me. 

" Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me be 
with me where I am, that they may behold my glory which 
thou hast given me ; for thou lovedst me before the foundation 
of the world. righteous Father ! the world hath not known 
thee ; but I have known thee, and these have known that 
thou hast sent me. And I have declared unto them thy name, 
and will declare it ; that the love wherewith thou hast loved 
me may be in them, and I in them." ] 

1 John xvii. 



CHAPTER V. 



ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 



Arguish of Jesus. — His Prayers in the Garden. — The Arrest. — Peter's Reck- 
lessness. — Flight of the Apostles. — Jesus led to Annas; to Caiaphas. — Jesua 
affirms that he is the Messiah. — Frivolous Accusations. — Peter denies his 
Lord. — Jesus is conducted to Pilate. — The Examination. — Scourging the 
Innocent. — Insults and Mockery. — Rage of the Chief Priests and Scribes.— 
Embarrassment of Pilate. — He surrenders Jesus to his Enemies. — The Cruci- 
fixion. — The Resurrection. — Repeated Appearance. to his Disciples. 



ESUS having finished this prayer, the little band 
descended into the Valley of Jehoshaphat, a deep 
and dark ravine, and, crossing the Brook Kedron, 
entered the Garden of Gethsemane, a secluded 
spot, which Christ often visited for retirement and 
prayer. Here Jesus seems to have been over- 
whelmed in contemplating the mysterious suffer- 
ings he was about to experience. The language used by the 
inspired writers indicates the highest possible degree of men- 
tal agony. He " began to be sore amazed and very heavy." 
These words, in the original, express the most excruciating 
anguish, — a torture which threatens to separate soul from 
body, and which utterly overwhelms the sufferer. As though 
he could not bear to be alone in that dreadful hour, he took 
with him Peter, James, and John, and withdrew from the rest 
of the apostles, for a little distance, into the silence and midnight 
gloom of the garden. He then said to his three compan- 
ions, — 




ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 123 

"My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death. Tarry 
ye here, and watch with me." 

He then withdrew a little farther — " about a stone's cast " 
— from theni, and fell upon his face, on the ground, and prayed, 
saying, — 

" my Father ! if it be possible, let this cup pass from me. 
Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." 

In answer to his prayer, an angel appeared unto him from 
heaven, strengthening him. And yet, notwithstanding the 
support thus furnished, the anguish of this dreadful hour in 
which he was about to bear the mysterious burden of the 
world's atonement was so terrible, that, "being in an agony, 
he prayed more earnestly ; and his sweat was as it were great 
drops of blood falling down to the ground." * 

After this scene of anguish and prayer, which probably occu- 
pied an hour, he returned to his three disciples, and found them 
asleep. He gently reproached them, saying to Peter, " Could ye 
not watch with me one hour ? Watch and pray, that ye enter 
not into temptation : the spirit indeed is willing ; but the 
flesh is weak." 

Again he retired the second time, and the same scene of 
inexpressible and unimaginable mental suffering was re-enacted. 
Jesus recoiled not from the physical pain of the cross ; never 
were buffeting, scourging, crucifixion, borne more meekly, more 
uncomplainingly : but this agony seems to have surpassed all 
mortal comprehension. It is recorded, — 

" He went away again the second time, and prayed, saying, 
my Father ! if this cup may not pass away except I drink 
it, thy will be done." 

Returning, he found his friends once more asleep. It was 
late in the night ; and, worn out with anxiety and exhaustion, 
we are told that " their eyes were heavy." It is evident that 
Jesus, engaged in his agonizing prayer, had been for some time 
absent from them. He did not reproach them, and they had 
no excuse to offer. 

(t And he left them, and went away again, and prayed the 



124 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

third time, saying the same words." Then, returning, and find- 
ing them still asleep, he said, perhaps a little reproachfully, — ■ 

" Sleep on now, and take your rest. Behold, the hour is at 
hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 
Rise, let us be going. Behold, he is at hand that doth betray 
me." 

While he was speaking these words, the light of torches was 
seen approaching. Judas knew well where to find Jesus ; for 
he had often accompanied him to this retreat. He took with 
him a band of Roman soldiers, and officers of the Sanhedrim, 
" with lanterns, torches, and weapons." As it was night, and 
Jesus, in the shades of the garden, was accompanied by his 
twelve disciples, there was danger that he might escape, and 
in the morning rally the people to his rescue. Also, in the 
darkness, it would be difficult for the soldiers to discriminate 
persons so as to know which of them to arrest. Judas, there- 
fore, gave them a sign, saying, — 

" Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he. Take him, and 
hold him fast." 

The kiss was then the ordinary mode of salutation, like shak- 
ing of hands now. Judas, followed by the band, approached 
his well-known Lord, and said, "Hail, Master; and kissed 
him." Jesus calmly replied, — 

"Friend, wherefore art thou come ? Betray est thou the Son 
of man with a kiss ? " 

Advancing towards the soldiers, he said to them, " Whom 
seek ye ? " They said, " Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus replied; 
" I am he." There was something in his address and bearing 
which so overawed them, that for a moment they were power- 
less ; and " they went backward, and fell to the ground." 

" Then asked he them again, Whom seek ye ? And they 
said, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus answered, I have told you 
that I am he. If, therefore, ye seek me, let these go their 
way." 

Judas slunk away into the darkness, and the soldiers seized 
Jesus. The impetuous Peter "drew a sword," probably snatch- 
ing it from one of the soldiers, and " smote a servant of the 



ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 125 

high, priest, and cut off his ear." Jesus reproved him, 

saying, — 

" Put up again thy sword into his place ; for all they that 
take the sword shall perish with the sword. Thinkest thou 
that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently 
give me more than twelve legions of angels ? But how, then, 
shall the scriptures be fulfilled, that thus it must be ? " 

Turning to the wounded servant, he said to him, " Suffer 
ye thus far ; n and, touching his ear, he healed him. Then, ad- 
dressing the soldiers, he said, — 

"Are ye come out as against a thief, with swords and 
staves, to take me ? I was -daily with you in the temple, and 
ye took me not ; but the scriptures must be fulfilled. This 
is your hour and the power of darkness." 

It seems incomprehensible, that, under these circumstances, 
the apostles could have been so terror-stricken, as, with one 
accord, to have abandoned Jesus, and fled ; but they all did 
it, — the valiant Peter with the rest. Jesus, thus utterly for- 
saken, was left alone with his enemies. 

The soldiers bound Jesus, and conducted him back into the 
city, and led him to the house of Annas. He had formerly 
been high priest. His son-in-law Caiaphas now occupied that 
ofiice. Annas was a man of great influence, and it was impor- 
tant to obtain his sanction in the lawless enterprise in which 
the Jewish rulers were now engaged. It seems that Annas 
was not disposed to incur the responsibility of these deeds of 
violence ; and Jesus was led to the house of Caiaphas. Of the 
dispersed apostles, two of them (Peter, and probably John) fol- 
lowed the guard at a distance, furtively creeping beneath the 
shadows of the trees and the houses. Though it was still 
night, a meeting of the Sanhedrim, but an illegal one, had 
been convened in the palace of Caiaphas. Twenty-three mem- 
bers constituted a court. Caiaphas presided. Jesus was led 
into the hall before them for a preliminary examination. 

By this time there was probably some considerable tumult, 
and the gradual gathering of a crowd. Peter and the other 
apostle cautiously approached the palace, and obtained admis- 



126 BISTORT OF CHRISTIAN IT f. 

sion to watch the proceedings, without making themselves 
known as the followers of Jesus. Peter sat with the servants, 
who had gathered around the fire which had been kindled in 
the great hall. 

The high priest inquired of Jesus respecting the number of 
his followers, and the sentiments he had inculcated. Jesus 
replied, — 

" I spake openly to the world. I ever taught in the syna- 
gogue and in the temple, whither the Jews always resort. In 
secret have I said nothing. Why askest thou me ? Ask them 
which heard me : behold, they know what I said." 

This reply, though perfectly respectful, so exasperated one 
of the attending officers, that he struck Jesus in the face with 
the palm of his hand. To this Jesus meekly replied, " If I 
have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil ; but if well, why 
smitest thou me ? " 

False witnesses had been bribed to testify against Jesus; 
but they contradicted each other, and could bring forward no 
charge against him worthy of serious consideration. At last 
they brought forth the silly accusation, " We heard him say, I 
am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three 
days." 

Jesus did not condescend any reply to such frivolous charges, 
but maintained perfect silence. Caiaphas said to him, 
" Answerest thou nothing ? What is it which these witness 
against thee ? " Still Jesus was silent. The charges brought 
against him were sufficiently preposterous, without any defence 
on his part. Caiaphas was not a little perplexed, and in his 
perplexity said, — 

" I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whether 
thou be the Christ, the Son of God." 

Jesus replied, " I am ; and hereafter ye shall see the Son 
of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the 
clouds of heaven." 

Caiaphas affected to be shocked. He rent his clothes, say- 
ing, " What need we any further witnesses ? Ye have heard 
the blasphemy. What think ye ? And they all condemned 
him to be guilty of death." 



ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 127 

While this cruel farce was "being enacted, Peter sat warming 
himself by the fire, not far from Jesus, conversing occasionally 
with the servants. One of the maid-servants looked upon hiin, 
and said, " Thou also wast with Jesus of Nazareth." Peter 
replied, " Woman, I know him not." Soon after, a man-servant 
reiterated the charge, saying, " Thou art also of them." Peter 
again replied, " Man, I am not." About an hour after, several 
who stood by said, " Surely thou art one of them ; for thou art 
a Galilean, and thy speech bewrayeth thee. But he began to 
curse and to swear, saying, I know not this man of whom ye 
speak." 

Just at that moment, the clear crowing of a cock was heard 
once and again. Jesus, who had overheard all this conversa- 
tion, turned round, and simply looked at Peter. That sad and 
sorrowing glance pierced like a two-edged sword. The pro- 
phetic words of Jesus rang in his ears : "Before the cock crow 
twice, thou shalt deny me thrice." The wretched man " went 
out and wept bitterly." 

A scene of awful insult and suffering now ensued, such as 
perhaps never before or since has been witnessed in a nominal 
court of justice. They spat in his face ; they beat him with 
their clinched fists and with the palms of their hands ; they 
mocked him, saying, "Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, Who is 
he that smote thee ? " Even the servants joined in the gen- 
eral outrage of derision and violence. 

The morning had now dawned. The chief priests and elders 
took counsel how they might put Jesus to death. This could 
not be done without the consent of the Eoman governor. They 
therefore bound him again, and led him to Pontius Pilate, a 
cruel despot, who was then Eoman governor of Judsea. Early 
as it was, quite a crowd followed as Jesus was led from the 
hall of Caiaphas to the judgment-seat of Pilate. 

In the mean time, the miserable Judas Iscariot, overwhelmed 
with remorse, threw away his thirty pieces of silver, and went 
and hanged himself. Pilate met the Jews with their vic- 
tim as they approached the judgment-hall, and inquired, 
" What accusation bring ye against this man ? " They replied, 



128 . msfOItt OP CtittlSTIAttlTT. 

" If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him 
up unto thee." Pilate replied, "Take him and judge him 
according to your law." They, thirsting for his blood, an- 
swered, " It is not lawful for us to put any man to death." 
Pilate then addressed himself to Jesus, and inquired, "Art 
thou King of the Jews ? " Jesus replied by asking the ques- 
tion, — 

" Sayest thou this of thyself ? or did others tell it thee of me ? " 

Pilate answered, " Am I a Jew ? Thine own nation and 
the chief priests have delivered thee unto me. What hast 
thou done?" 

Jesus replied, " My kingdom is not of this world. If my 
kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that 
I should not be delivered to the Jews ; but now is my king- 
dom not from hence." 

Pilate rejoined, " Art thou a king, then ? " 

Jesus said, " Thou sayest " (i.e., it is so) "lama king. To 
this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, 
that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is 
of the truth heareth my voice." 

Pilate, having carelessly inquired " What is truth ? " with- 
out waiting for any answer, turned to the Jews, and said, 
" I find in him no fault at all. But ye have a custom that I 
should release unto you one at the passover : will ye, therefore, 
that I release unto you the King of the Jews ? " 

There was then in prison a noted robber and murderer by 
the name of Barabbas. With one accord these Jewish rulers 
cried out, " Not this man, but Barabbas ! " 

Then Pilate, though he had already declared Jesus to be 
innocent, infamously ordered him to be scourged, that he 
might conciliate the favor of the Jews. It pales one's cheek to 
think what it was to be scourged by the sinewy arms of the 
Roman soldiery. 1 After Jesus had undergone this terrible 

1 " Cruel hands disrobed the still uncomplaining sufferer. Brawny arms 
wielded upon his naked back the fearful scourge, whose thongs of leather, loaded 
with sharp metal, cut at every stroke their bloody furrow in the quivering flesh. 
This torture, beneath which many a strong man had given up his life, could not 
extort from the steadfast heart of Jesus a single groan." — Life of Jesus ofNaztk* 
reth by Lyman Aboott, p, 469, 



ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 129 

infliction without the utterance of a word, while fainting with 
anguish and the loss of blood, the ribald soldiers platted a 
crown of thorns, and forced it upon his brow, piercing the flesh 
with its sharp points, and crimsoning his cheeks with blood. 
A purple robe they threw over his shoulders, and placed a 
reed, in mockery of a sceptre, in his hand : derisively they 
shouted, " Hail, King of the Jews ! " while they smote hiin 
with their hands. 

The infamous Pilate led Jesus forth thus, exhausted, bleed- 
ing, and held up to derision, to the Jews, saying at the same 
time, " Behold, I bring him forth to you, that ye may know 
that I find no fault in him." 

But the rulers, clamorous for his blood, not satisfied with even 
this aspect of misery, cried out, " Crucify him, crucify him ! n 
Pilate, wicked as he was, recoiled from the thought of putting 
one so entirely innocent to death. He therefore said impa- 
tiently and sarcastically, " Take ye him, and crucify him ; for 
I find no fault in him." This ho said, knowing that the Jews 
had no legal power to do this. But they replied, "We have a 
law ; and by our law he ought to die, because he made him- 
self the Son of God." 

Pilate was greatly troubled. The bearing of Jesus had 
deeply impressed him. He was fearful that there might be 
something divine in his character and mission. Turning to 
Jesus, he said, "Whence art thou ? " (i.e., "What is thy origin 
and parentage ? ") Jesus made no reply. Pilate then added, — 

" Speakest thou not unto me ? Knowest thou not that I 
have power to crucify thee, and power to release thee ? " 

Jesus replied, "Thou couldst have no power at all except it 
were given thee from above. Therefore he that delivered me 
unto thee hath the greater sin." l 

Pilate was now really desirous of liberating Jesus ; but 
being a weak and wavering man, totally deficient in moral 
courage, he knew not how to resist the clamors of the Jews. 
They endeavored to goad him to gratify them by the menace, 

1 Thi3 probably refers to Caiaphas, the high priest, as representing the Jewish 
authorities. 

9 



130 BISTORT OP CER1ST1AN1TT. 

" If thou let this man go, thou art not Caesar's friend. WLo- 
soever maketh himself a king speaketh against Caesar." 

Pilate was not on very good terms with the imperial gov- 
ernment. He knew that any report that he was unfaithful to 
Csesar might cost him his office. 

Pilate still persisted, "I find no fault in this man. And 
they were more tierce, saying, He stirreth up the people, 
teaching throughout all Jewry, beginning from Galilee to this 
place." Pilate caught at this allusion to Galilee, and hoped 
that there was a new chance to extricate himself from his diffi- 
culties. As a Galilean, Jesus belonged to Herod's jurisdiction ; 
and it so chanced that Herod was at that time in Jerusalem. 
He therefore sent him under a guard to Herod. A band of 
chief priests and scribes accompanied the prisoner to this new 
tribunal, and " vehemently accused him. Herod, with his 
men at war, set him at nought, and mocked him, and arrayed 
him in a gorgeous robe, and sent him again to Pilate. It was 
now about twelve o'clock at noon. Pilate presented Jesus to 
the Jews, saying scornfully, " Behold your King ! " 

A scene of tumult and clamor ensued, the rulers crying out, 
" Crucify him, crucify him ! " Then Pilate said, " Ye have 
brought this man unto me as one that perverteth the people ; 
and behold, I, having examined him before you, have found 
no fault in this man touching those things whereof ye accuse 
him : no, nor yet Herod ; for I sent you to him ; and, lo, noth- 
ing worthy of death is done unto him. I will therefore chas- 
tise him and release him." 1 

Still the clamor rose, " Crucify him, crucify him !" Pilate 
was seriously troubled. While these scenes had been trans- 
piring, his wife had sent a messenger to him, saying, — 

u Have thou nothing to do with that just man ; for I have 
suffered many things this day in a dream because of him." 

But Pilate had force of character only in wickedness. In 
violation of every dictate of his judgment, he surrendered 
Jesus to his foes. " When Pilate saw that he could prevail 
nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, 

1 Luke xxiii. 13-16. 



ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 131 

and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am 
innocent of the blood of this just person. See ye to it." 

The Jews replied, " His blood be on us and on our chil- 
dren." Pilate then, having released Barabbas, again ordered 
Jesus to be scourged, and delivered him to the Jews to be cru- 
cified. The soldiers led Jesus into the common hall of the 
palace, and summoned all their comrades to take part in the aw- 
ful tragedy in which they were engaged. 

First they stripped Jesus, then put on him a scarlet robe, 
placed a crown of thorns upon his head, put a reed in his 
hand, and bowed the knee before him, and derisively exclaimed, 
" Hail, King of the Jews ! " 

At length, weary of the mockery, they took off his impe- 
rial robes, clothed him again in his own garments, spat upon 
him, smote him on the head with the reed, and led him away 
to crucify him. A heavy wooden cross was placed upon the 
shoulders of Jesus, which he was to bear outside of the walls 
of the city, where it was to be planted, and he was to be 
nailed to it. Exhausted by the sufferings which he had 
already endured, he soon sank fainting beneath the load. 
The soldiers met a stranger from Cyrene, and compelled him 
to bear the cross. Thus they proceeded, followed by an im- 
mense crowd of people, men and women, many of the women 
weeping bitterly. Jesus turned to them, and said, — 

'•'Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for 
yo.irselves and for your children. For, behold, the days are 
coming in which they shall say, Blessed are the barren, and the 
wombs that never bare, and the paps which never gave suck. 
Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us ; and 
to the hills, Cover us. For, if they do these things in a green 
tree, what shall be done in the dry." * 

They came to a small eminence, a short distance from the 
city, and beyond its walls, which was called Mount Calvary, 
sometimes Golgotha. The place of the execution of Jesus is 
not now known. He was nailed by his hands and his feet to 

1 This last phrase was a proverbial expression. A " green tree " represented 
the righteous ; the " dry tree r the wicked, fit only to be burned. 



132 mst'Ottt OF cnBlSTIANlTt. 

the cross, and the cross was planted in the ground. By his side 
two thieves suffered the same punishment. Jesus, as in this 
hour of terrible agony he looked down from the cross upon 
his foes, was heard to breathe the prayer, "Father, forgive 
them ; for they know not what they do." 

Pilate wrote the inscription, "Jesus of Nazareth, the 
Ki> t g of the Jews." This, in Hebrew, Greek, and Lai in, 
was nailed over the cross. The Jews wished to have it 
changed to "He said I am the King of the Jews;" but 
Pilate refused to make the alteration. Of the two thieves who 
were crucified with Jesus, one was obdurate. Even in that hour 
of suffering and death he could revile Jesus, saying, " If thou 
be the Christ, save thyself and us." The other, in the spirit 
of true penitence, rebuked the companion of his crimes, say- 
ing,— 

"Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same 
condemnation ? And we indeed justly, for we receive the due 
reward of our deeds ; but this man hath done nothing amiss." 
Then, turning his eyes to Jesus, he said, "Lord, remember me 
when thou comest into thy kingdom/' 

Jesus replied, " Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be 
with me in paradise." 

As Jesus hung upon the cross, his sufferings excited no 
pity on the part of his foes. They reviled him, saying, " If. 
thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross. He 
saved others : himself he cannot save. He trusted in God ; 
let him deliver him now, if he will have him ; for he said, I 
am the Son of God." 

The mother of Jesus, and two other women who had been 
his devoted friends, and the apostle John, stood by the side of 
the cross. Jesus, addressing his mother, and then turning his 
eyes to John, said, "Woman, behold thy son!" To John he 
said, " Behold thy mother ! " From that hour John took Mary 
to his home. 

There now came supernatural darkness over the whole land, 
which continued until about three o'clock. Jesus, being then 
in his dying agonies, exclaimed with a loud voice, " My God, 



ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 133 

my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" and then he added, 
" I thirst." Some one, probably kindly disposed, ran, and, fill- 
ing a sponge with vinegar, raised it upon a reed to the lips of 
the sufferer. Jesus, simply tasting of it, said, " It is fin- 
ished ! " and with a loud voice exclaimed, " Father, into thy 
hands I commend my spirit ! " and died. 

At that moment, the massive veil of the temple in Jerusa- 
lem, which concealed the holy of holies, was rent in twain 
from the top to the bottom. There was an earthquake rend- 
ing the solid rocks. Many graves were burst open, and the 
bodies of the saints which slumbered in them came forth to 
life, " and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many." 

These startling phenomena greatly alarmed the crowd which 
was gathered around the cross. " Truly," many of them ex- 
claimed, "this was the Son of God." It was Friday after- 
noon. At the going-down of the sun, the Jewish sabbath 
would commence. Being the sabbath of the commencement 
of the paschal feast, it was a day of unusual solemnity. The 
Jews, unwilling that the bodies should remain upon the cross 
over the sabbath, applied to Pilate to hasten the lingering 
death of the crucified by breaking their legs. The brutal 
Roman soldiers did this brutally to the two men who were 
crucified with Jesus. But when they came to Jesus, and 
found that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. 
But one of the soldiers, to make it certain that life was 
extinct, thrust his spear deeply into his side. The outflow of 
blood and water indicated that the spear had pierced both the 
pericardium and the heart. 

It is recorded that these things were done that the scrip- 
ture might be fulfilled, " A bone of him shall not be broken ; " 
and, " They shall look on him whom they pierced." Thus, also, 
the executioners of Jesus divided his garments among them- 
selves, and drew lots for his seamless coat ; " that the scrip- 
ture might be fulfilled which saith, They parted my raiment 
among them, and for my vesture they did cast lots." 

The evening drew nigh. One of the disciples of Jesus, a 
wealthy man by the name of Joseph, from Arimathea ; being 



134 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

a man of high position, went to Pilate, and begged the bodj 
of Jesus. Pilate, marvelling that he was so soon dead, granted 
his request. Nicodemv.s also, the timid man who visited 
Jesus by night, and once during his career ventured to speak 
a cautious word in his favor, now came by night, with a hun- 
dred-pound weight of myrrh and aloes, to embalm the dead 
body of one whom he had not the moral courage to confess 
when that living one was struggling against his foes. 

Joseph took the body of Jesus from the cross, wrapped it in 
a linen robe, and deposited it in a newly-constructed tomb of his 
own which he had hewn out of a solid rock. The door of the 
tomb was closed by a heavy stone. Several women, the friends 
of Jesus, followed his remains to the sepulchre. This was 
Friday, called the "preparation-day," because, on that day, 
the Jews prepared for the solemn rest of the sabbath. 

The next morning, the morning of the sabbath, the chief 
priests and Pharisees, remembering that Jesus had declared 
that he would rise again on the third day, held a council, and 
called upon Pilate, requesting him to appoint a sure guard at 
the tomb until after the third day, "lest his disciples come by 
night, and steal him away, and say unto the people, He is 
risen from the dead." 1 

Pilate authorized them to make the watch as sure as they 
could, employing a guard of Poman soldiers which had been 
placed at the command of the Jewish rulers. A detachment 
of these soldiers was marched to the tomb to guard it, and in 
some way sealing the stone at the door with the public signet 
of the Sanhedrim. Thus every thing was done which caution 
could suggest to prevent any deceit ; and these precautions 
established beyond all possibility of doubt the reality of the 
resurrection. 

The night of Friday, the sabbath, and the night succeed- 
ing the sabbath, passed in quiet. Early in the morning of 
the third day (which was the first day of the week), " at the 
rising of the sun," Mary Magdalene, and another Mary, the 
mother of James, came to the sepulchre. As they approached 

i Matt, xxvii. 64. 



ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION-. 135 

tlie closed door, there was a violent earthquake, which rolled 
back the stone which had closed the entrance. An angel, ra- 
diant with exceeding beauty and clothed in celestial robes, sat 
upon the stone. The guard fainted in excessive terror. The 
angel addressed the women, saying, — 

" Fear not ye ; for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was 
crucified. He is not here ; for he is risen, as he said. Come 
see the place where the Lord lay." 1 

Entering the sepulchre, they saw an angel, in the form of a 
young man, sitting on the right side, also clothed in the white 
robe which is the emblematic garment of heaven. The angel 
repeated the declaration which had just been made by his 
companion, and added, — 

" Go your way ; tell his disciples and Peter 2 that he is risen 
from the dead. And, behold, he goeth before you into Galilee : 
there shall ye see him. Lo, I have told you." 

Greatly agitated and overjoyed, they ran to communicate the 
glad tidings to the disciples. On their way, Jesus met them, 
and greeted them with the words, "All hail!" "And they 
came and held him by the feet, and worshipped him. Then 
said Jesus unto them, Be not afraid: go tell my brethren 
that they go into Galilee, and there shall they see me." 

Some of the guard also, as they recovered from their swoon, 
hastened into the city to report to the chief priests what had 
transpired. Alarmed by these tidings, they held a council, 
and bribed the soldiers to say that they all fell asleep in the 
night; and, while they slept, the disciples of Jesus came and 
stole the body. This was the best story they could fabricate ; 
though it was obvious, that, if they were asleep, they could not 
know that the disciples had stolen the body. Moreover, it was 
death for a Eoman soldier to be found sleeping at his post. 
The rulers, however, promised that they would intercede with 
Pilate, and secure them from harm. 

The women hastened to the residence of John, who had taken 

1 Matt, xxviii. 5, 6. 

2 This was a kind message to Peter, who had bo recently denied his Lord. It 
assured him of his forgiveness. 



136 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

home with him the mother of Jesus. There they met him 
and Peter, and informed them of what had happened. The two 
disciples immediately started upon the run for the sepulchre. 
John reached the sepulchre first, and, looking in, saw the tomb 
to be empty, and the grave-clothes of Jesus lying in a corner. 
Pie, however, did not venture in. The impetuous Peter soon 
arrived, and immediately entered the tomb. John followed 
after him. The body of Jesus was gone: the grave-clothes 
alone remained. Thoughtfully they returned to their home. 

Mary Magdalene had probably accompanied John and Peter 
to the tomb ; and, after they had left, she remained near the 
door, weeping. As she wept, she looked into the sepulchre, and 
saw " two angels in white, sitting, the one at the head, and the 
other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain." One of 
the angels said to her, " Woman, why weepest thou ? " She 
replied, " Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know 
not where they have laid him." It seems that she still thought 
that the enemies of Jesus had taken away his remains. 

As she said this, she turned around, and saw a man standing 
at her side. It was Jesus ; but she knew him not. Jesus 
said to her, "Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest 
thou ? " She, supposing him to be the gardener, replied, " Sir, 
if thou hast borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid 
him, and I will take him away." Jesus said to her (probably 
then assuming his well-known voice), "Mary!" Instantly 
she recognized him, and, astonished and overjoyed, could only 
exclaim, " Master ! " Jesus added, — 

" Touch me not ; for I am not yet ascended to my Father : 
but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my 
Father and your Father, and to my God and your God." 

Then probably he disappeared. Mary went into the city, and 
informed the bewildered and weeping disciples of what she had 
seen ; " and they, when they had heard that he was alive and 
had been seen of her, believed not." 

At a later hour of that same day, two of the disciples went 
to the village of Emmaus, about six or seven miles west from 
Jerusalem. As they walked along, they were conversing 



ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 137 

about the wonderful events which were transpiring. While 
thus engaged in conversation, Jesus joined them, but in a 
form which they did not recognize. 

" What manner of communications are these," said he, " that 
ye have one to another, as ye walk, and are sad ? " 

One of the disciples, whose name was Cleopas, re- 
plied, " Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not 
known the things which are come to pass there in these 
days ? " 

" What things ? " inquired Jesus. 

" Concerning Jesus of Nazareth," was the answer, " which 
was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all 
the people ; and how the chief priests and our rulers deliv- 
ered him to be condemned to death, and have crucified him. 
But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed 
Israel. And, besides all this, to-day is the third day since 
these things were done. Yea, and certain women also of our 
company made us astonished, which were early at the sepul- 
chre ; and, when they found not his body, they came, saying 
that they had also seen a vision of angels, which said that he 
was alive. And certain of them which were with us went to 
the sepulchre, and found it even so as the women had said ; 
but him they saw not." 

Jesus replied, "0 fools, 1 and slow of heart to believe all 
that the prophets have spoken ! Ought not Christ to have suf- 
fered these things, and to enter into his glory ? 

"And, beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he expounded 
unto them in all the scriptures the things concerning him- 
self. And they drew nigh unto the village whither they went ; 
and he made as though he would have gone farther : but they 
constrained him, saying, Abide with us ; for it is toward 
evening, and the day is far spent. And he went in to tarry 
with them. And it came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, 
he took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them. 

1 The word translated "fools " does not imply reproach, as the word does with us. 
It means that they were thoughtless, not attending to the evidence that Jesus was 
to die and rise again. 



138 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

And their eyes were opened, and they knew him ; and he van- 
ished out of their sight." l 

Greatly excited by this event, the two disciples hastened 
hack that same evening to Jerusalem, where they found the 
eleven apostles assembled together. In the mean time, Jesu3 
had appeared to Peter ; but when, and under what circum- 
stances, this happened, is not recorded. 2 

The brethren from Emmaus told the eleven apostles how Jesus 
had revealed himself to them in the breaking of bread. The 
apostles were in a room, with the door closed, from fear of the 
Jews. As the disciples were giving their narrative, suddenly 
u Jesus himself stood in the midst of them, and saith unto 
them, Peace be unto you. But they were terrified and af- 
frighted, and supposed that they had seen a spirit. And he 
said unto them, Why are ye troubled ? and why do thoughts 8 
arise in your hearts? Behold my hands and my feet, that it 
is I myself: handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh 
and bones, as ye see me have. 

" And, when he had thus spoken, he showed them his hands 
and his feet. And while they yet believed not for joy, and 
wondered, he said unto them, Have ye any meat ? And they 
gave him a piece of a broiled fish, and of a honeycomb j and 
he took it, and did eat before them. Then' Jesus said to 
them again, — 

" Peace be unto you : as my Father hath sent me, even so 
send I you. And, when he had said this, he breathed on them, 
and said, Receive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose soever sins ye 
remit, they are remitted unto them ; and whose soever sins ye 
retain, they are retained." 4 

After Jesus had retired, Thomas, who had been absent for 
the few moments when Jesus was present, came in, and upon 
being told b} 1 - the apostles, " We have seen the Lord," replied 
in despondency and grief, — 

1 Luke xxiv. 17-31. * See Luke xxiv. 34. and 1 Cor. xv. 5. 

3 Doubts, suspicions. 

« The meaning of this passage is supposed to be, that, in founding the Church, 
the apostles should be taught by the Holy Ghost on what terms and to what 
characters God would extend forgiveness of sin. 



ARREST, TRIAL, AND CRUCIFIXION. 139 

"Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and 
put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand 
into his side, I will not believe." 

The week passed away, and the first day of another week 
came. The eleven apostles were again assembled together. 
Thomas was with them. As they sat at meat, the doors being 
shut, Jesus came, and said, "Peace be unto you." Then, 
turning to Thomas, he said, "Reach hither thy finger, and 
behold my hands ; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it 
into my side ; and be not faithless, but believing." 

Thomas replied, " My Lord and my God ! " 

Jesus rejoined, " Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou 
hast believed : blessed are they that have not seen, and yet 
have believed." 

Again Jesus disappeared. John writes, " Many other signs 
truly did Jesus in the presence of his disciples, which are not 
written in this book." 1 

The apostles now, in a body, " went away into Galilee, into 
a mountain where Jesus had appointed them." This was prob- 
ably the Mount of Transfiguration. Very brief is the record 
of what ensued, which is given by Matthew alone: "And, 
when they saw him, they worshipped him ; but some doubted. 
And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, — 

" All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go 
ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name 
of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost ; teach- 
ing them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded 
you. And, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the 
world." 2 

Soon after this, Jesus revealed himself to several of his 
disciples at the Sea of Tiberias, under the following circum- 
stances : — 

"There were together Simon Peter, and Thomas called 
Didymus, and ISTathanael of Cana in Galilee, and the sons of 
Zebedee, and two other of his disciples. Simon Peter saith 
unto them, I go a-fishing. They say unto him, We also go 

» John xx. 30. 2 Matt, xxviii. 17-20. 



140 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

with thee. They went forth, and entered into a ship imme- 
diately ; and that night they caught nothing. 

"But, when the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the 
shore ; hut the disciples knew not that it was Jesus. Then 
Jesus saith unto them, Children, have ye any meat? They, 
answered him, ISTo. And he saith unto them, Cast the net on 
the right side of the ship, and ye shall find. They cast, there- 
fore ; and now they were not ahle to draw it for the multitude 
of fishes. Therefore that disciple whom Jesus loved saith unto 
Peter, It is the Lord. 

" Now, when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he 
girt his fisher's coat unto him, and did cast himself into the 
sea. And the other disciples came in a little ship (for they 
were not far from land, hut, as it were, two hundred cubits 1 ). 
As soon, then, as they were come to land, they saw a fire of 
coals there, and fish laid thereon, and bread. Jesus saith unto 
them, Bring of the fish which ye have now caught. Simon 
Peter went up, and drew the net to land full of great fishes, — 
a hundred and fifty and three ; and for all there were so many, 
yet was not the net hroken. Jesus saith to them, Come and 
dine. And none of the disciples durst ask him, Who art 
thou? knowing that it was the Lord. Je^us then cometb, 
and taketh "bread, and giveth them, and fish likewise. This 
is now the third time - that Jesus showed himself to his disci- 
ples after he was risen from the dead. 

"So, when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, 
Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me more than these ? 3 
He saith unto him, Yea, Lord: thou knowest that I love 
thee. He saith unto him, Feed my lamhs. He saith to him 
again the second time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me ? 
He saith unto him, Yea, Lord: thou knowest that I love 
thee. He saith unto him, Feed my sheep. He saith unto 
him the third time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? 
Peter was grieved hecause he said unto him the third time, 

1 About a hundred and thirty-two yards. 

2 The third time to the disciples collectively. 

» More than these other apostles. Peter had professed, before bis fall, superior 
attachment. 



ARREST, TRIAL, ANt> CRUCIFIXI02T. 144 

Lovest tliou me ; and he said unto him, Lord, thou knowest 
all things : thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto 
him, Feed my sheep." 

Jesus then added, " Verily, verily, I say unto thee, When 
thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and walked whither 
thou wouldest ; but, when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch 
forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee 
whither thou wouldest not." 

"This," says John, "spake he, signifying by what death he 
should glorify God. And, when he had spoken this, he saith 
unto him, Follow me. Then Peter, turning about, seeth the 
disciple whom Jesus loved [John] following ; which also leaned 
on his breast at supper, and said, Lord, which is he that 
betrayeth thee? Peter, seeing him, saith to Jesus, Lord, and 
what shall this man do? Jesus saith unto him, If I will 
that lie tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow 
thou me." 

John adds, " Then went this saying abroad among the 
brethren, that that disciple should not die : yet Jesus said 
not unto him, He shall not die; but, If I will that he tarry 
till I come, what is that to thee ? " 1 

At the conclusion of this interview, of which we have so 
brief a recital, Jesus said, "These are the words which I 
spake unto you while I was } T et with you, that all things must 
be fulfilled which were written in the law of Moses, and in 
the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me. Then," 
writes Luke, "opened he their understanding that they might 
understand the scriptures, and said unto them, Thus it is 
written, and thus it behooved Christ to suffer, and to rise 
from the dead the third day ; and that repentance and remis- 
sion of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, 
beginning at Jerusalem. And ye are witnesses of these things. 
And, behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you ; but 
tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem until ye be endued with 
power from on high." 2 

Paul testifies, that, after this, Jesas "was seen of above five 

1 John xxi. 2-23. * Luke xxiv. 44-49. 



142 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

hundred brethren at once." But we have no record of that 
interview, or of one which he mentions with James alone. 

We have hut a brief account of the last and most sublime 
of all these interviews. Jesus met the eleven in Jerusalem. 
Their prejudices so tenaciously clung to them, that they 
again asked, " Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the 
kingdom to Israel?" Jesus replied, "It is not for you to 
know the times or the seasons which the Father hath put in 
his own power; but ye shall receive power after that the Holy 
Ghost is come upon you ; and ye shall be witnesses unto me 
both in Jerusalem and in Judsea and in Samaria, and unto 
the uttermost part of the earth." 

Going out from Jerusalem, they walked together over the 
Mount of Olives on the road to Bethany. When near the 
summit of that sublime swell of land which had ever been 
one of his favorite places of resort, Jesus stopped on the green- 
sward, at a point where one could obtain an almost unbroken 
view of the horizon and of the overarching skies, and, raising 
his hands, pronounced a final earthly blessing upon his apos- 
tles. 

Then he began slowly to ascend into the air. As he rose 
higher and higher, they all gazed upward upon him in silent 
amazement. At length, far away in the distance, a dim cloud 
appeared, perhaps a cloud of clustering angels, which received 
him out of their sight. As the apostles stood lost in wonder, 
still gazing into the skies, two angels, clothed in heaven's 
" white apparel," stood by them. One of them said, — 

" Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? 
This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, 
shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into 
heaven." 

The apostles returned to Jerusalem, there to await " the 
baptism of the Holy Ghost." 



CHAPTER VI. 



THE CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OE SAUL OF TARSUS. 



The Baptism of the Holy Ghost. — Boldness of the Apostles.— Anger of the Ru- 
lers. — Martyrdom of Stephen. — Baptism of the Eunuch. — Saul's Journey to 
Damascus. — His Conversion. — The Disciples fear him. — His Escape from the 
City. — Saul in Jerusalem. — His Commission to the Gentiles.— The Conver- 
sion of Cornelius. — The Vision of Peter. — Persecution and Scattering of the 
Disciples. — Imprisonment and Escape of Peter. — Saul and Barnabas in Anti- 
och. — Punishment of Elymas. — Missionary Tour to Cyprus and Asia Minor. 
— Incidents and Results. 



'HE apostles, after the ascension of Jesus, obedient 
to the command of their Lord, remained in Je- 
rusalem, waiting for the fulfilment of the mys- 
terious promise of the gift of the Holy Ghost. 
To make their number complete, the}'- chose 
Matthias to take the place of Judas. He was a 
disciple who had been a witness of the resur- 
rection of Jesus. Two were selected ; and then the choice 
between them was decided by lot, the apostles praying to their 
Lord, saying, — 

"Thou, Lord, which knowest the hearts of all men, show 
whether of these two thou hast chosen." 

Upon the day appointed for the feast of Pentecost, about 
fifty days after the crucifixion, all the disciples in Jerusalem 
were assembled for prayer. They numbered then but about 
a hundred and twenty. " Suddenly," writes the sacred his- 
torian, "there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing 
mighty. wind, and it filled all the house where they were sit- 
ting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like aa 

143 




144 tiistoiiY of Christianity. 

of fire, and it sat upon each of them ; and they began to 
speak with other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance." 

This was the baptism of the Holy Ghost. The disciples, 
though unlearned men, were now able to preach fluently in 
the languages of all the many nations represented at Jerusa- 
lem. Peter, endowed with new power, so showed the Jews the 
terrible guilt they had incurred in crucifying the Messiah, 
that thousands cried out, " Men and brethren, what shall we 
do ? " The response which has echoed through all the ages, 
from that day to this, was, *» Eepent, and be baptized every one 
of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, 
and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." 1 

About three thousand converts were that day added to the 
church. The days passed rapidly on, while the disciples were 
earnestly engaged in prayer, and in preaching in the temple 
and in the streets, occasionally performing miracles of healing 
in the name of Jesus. Wonderful and hitherto unexperienced 
success attended their labors. Every day, converts were added 
to the church. In a few days after the commencement of 
their ministry, the number of avowed disciples in Jerusalem 
was increased from a hundred and twenty to five thousand. 

The timidity of Peter seemed to vanish. He became truly 
heroic in his boldness. His eloquence, fearlessness, and zeal 
gave him prominence above the other disciples. Having 
healed a lame man at the gate of the temple in the name of 
Jesus Christ of Nazareth, the excitement in the city became 
so great, that the priests and the Sadducees, with the captain of 
the temple, came upon Peter and John, arrested them, and 
thrust them into prison, "being grieved," it is written, "that 
they taught the people, and preached through Jesus the res- 
urrection of the dead." 

The next day a meeting of the Sanhedrim was convened, 
and the prisoners were assembled before that imposing court. 
To the question, " By what name, or by what power, have ye 
done this?" Peter replied to Annas and Caiaphas, and the 
other rulers who were responsible for the crucifixion of Jesus, 

i Acts ii. 38. 



CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL. 14$ 

"Ye rulers of the people, and elders of Israel, be it known 
unto you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name 
of Jesus Christ of Nazareth whom ye crucified, whom God 
raised from the dead, even by him doth this man stand here 
before you whole." 

He then earnestly preached to his judges the gospel of 
Christ, saying, " There is none other name under heaven given 
among men whereby we must be saved." 1 

The rulers were astonished at this boldness, perceiving 
"that they were unlearned and ignorant men;" and, being 
alarmed by the supernatural events which they could not deny, 
they threatened them, commanding them " not to speak: at all 
nor teach in the name of Jesus," and let them go. But both 
Peter and John answered, "Whether it be right in the sight of 
God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye.; for we 
cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard." " 2 

Even in those early days, there was imperfection in the 
church. There were five thousand members in Jerusalem. 
Two of these members were found to be unworthy ; and the 
imperfections of those two have made more noise in the world 
than all the silent virtues of the other five thousand. So it 
ever is. The calm, quiet devotion of myriads of Christians is 
not recorded. The report of the treachery of . Judas, the fall 
of Peter, the perfidy 01 Ananias and Sapphira, resound 
through all the centuries. 

Jerusalem was shaken by the "wonders wrought among the 
people. " by the hands of the apostles, and by the effect of their 
teaching. "Believers were the more added to the Lord, mul- 
titudes both of men and women." The miraculous powers 
conferred upon the apostles seemed to be fully equal to those 
exercised by Jesus. "They brought forth the sick into the 
streets, and laid them on beds and couches, that at least the 
shadow of Peter passing by might overshadow some of them. 
There came also a multitude out of the cities round about unto 
Jerusalem, bringing sick folks, and them which were vexed 
with unclean spirits ; and they were healed every one." 3 

* Acts iv. 12. a Acts iv. 19, 20. » Acts v. 15, 10. 

10 



146 HISTORY OF CERISTIAmTt. 

Caiaplias and the rulers "were filled with indignation." 
Again they seized the apostles, and imprisoned them; hut 
the "angel of the Lord" opened their prison-doors, and the 
next morning they were found again teaching excited crowds 
in the temple. A general council of the Sanhedrim was con- 
vened. They ordered the officers again to arrest the apostles. 
They did so, "but without violence ; for they feared lest they 
should be stoned." The high priest, much exasperated, said to 
them, " Did we not straitly command you that ye should not 
teach in this name ? and, behold, ye have filled Jerusalem 
with your doctrine, and intend to bring this man's blood upon 
us." 

Peter replied in the bold and stinging words, " We ought to 
obey God rathei "ban man. The God of our fathers raised 
up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree. Him hath 
God exalted with his right hand to be a Prince and a Saviour, 
for to give repentance to Israel, and forgiveness of sins. And 
we are his witnesses of these things ; and so is also the Holy 
Ghost, whom God hath given to them that obey him." 1 

After much debats, the court ordered the apostles to be 
scourged, and then discharged. They endured the terrible 
punishment, "rejoicing that they were permitted to suffer 
shame for his name." But there was no power in the blood- 
stained 'lash to silence them. " Daily in the temple, and in 
every house, they ceased not to teach and preach Jesus 
Christ." 

The wants of the rapidly-increasing Christian commuuity 
soon became so extended, that seven deacons were chosen to 
attend to the secular affairs of the church, that the apostles 
might give themselves " continually to prayer, and to the minis- 
try of the word." 

One of these seven, Stephen, " full of faith and power, did 
great wonders and miracles among the people." He was 
arrested, and false witnesses were bribed to accuse him. " We 
have heard him say," they testified, " that this Jesus of Naza- 
reth shall change the customs which Moses delivered us." 

* Acts v. 29-32. 



CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL. 1.47 

Stephen was permitted to speak in his defence. He began 
with the call of Abraham, and gave a rapid sketch of the 
great events in their national existence, selecting those points 
which were most available in their bearing upon his cause. 
He showed how the faith of Abraham and the piety of Jo- 
seph secured God's blessing. He probably somewhat exas- 
perated them when he showed that the law of Moses did not 
restrain their fathers from, at times, lapsing into the grossest 
idolatry: and when, in continuation of his argument, that ex- 
ternal observances alone did not constitute piety, he said, " The 
Most High dwelleth not in temples made with hands," he 
probably was assailed by some rude interruption ; for, em- 
boldened by inspiration, he suddenly exclaimed, — 

" Ye stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, ye do 
always resist the Holy Ghost : as your fathers did, so do ye. 
Which of the prophets have not your fathers persecuted? 
And they have slain them which showed before of the coming 
of the Just One, of whom ye have been now the betrayers 
and murderers ; who have received the law by the disposition 
of angels, and have not kept it." l 

This plain speech so exasperated the rulers, that " they were 
cut to the heart, and they gnashed upon him with their teeth." 
Stephen knew that death was his doom from those unjust 
and inexorable judges. "But he, being full of the Holy 
Ghost, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory 
of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God; and 
said, Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man 
standing on the right hand of God." 

There was no crime in all this, no violation of the law. 
To have pronounced any legal condemnation would have been 
absurd. The only resource left was mob violence. These 
proud and infamous men, the dignitaries of the Sanhedrim, 
" cried with a loud voice, and stopped their ears, and ran upon 
him with one accord, and cast him out of the city, and stoned 
him ; and the witnesses laid down their clothes at a young 
man's feet whose name was Saul. 

Acts vii. 51-53, 



U§ HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN Iff. 

"And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and Haying, 
Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. And lie kneeled dcwn, anc* 
cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge. 
And Saul was consenting unto his death." l 

This is the first mention which is made of Saul, the most 
remarkable man whose name is recorded in sacred or profane 
annals. 

Saul was horn in the city of Tarsus, in Asia Minor. It was 
u no mean city," the capital of the E-oman province of Cilicia, 
and situated upon the River Cadmus, a few miles from its 
entrance into the Mediterranean Sea. The parents of Saul 
were wealthy. It was a custom of the times, that every child, 
no matter hew opulent his parents, should be taught some 
trade. Saul learned that of a tent-maker. We know almost 
nothing of his childhood and early youth. His parents belonged 
to the sect of Pharisees, the most punctilious observers of the 
rites of the Jewish religion. His vernacular language waa 
probably Greek, though he undoubtedly was thoroughly in- 
structed in Hebrew. As it is said that he was " brought i.p at 
the feet of Gamaliel," and as it was the custom of the Jews to 
send their children, between the ages of ten and fourteen, to 
be instructed in the law, it is supposed, that, at that early 
age, Saul was sent to Gamaliel, the distinguished teacher in 
Jerusalem. 

Saul, at the time of the martyrdom of Stephen, though a 
young man, had manifestly attained both maturity and injlu- 
ence. He was probably a member of the Sanhedrim, as he 
states, that, when the Christians were put to death, be gave his 
vote against them. 2 His commanding influence is also mani- 
fest from the declaration, "Many of the saints did I shut up 
in prison, having received authority from the chief priests. 
And I punished them oft in every synagogue, and compelled 
them to blaspheme ; and, being exceedingly mad against them, 
I persecuted them even unto strange cities." 3 

After the martyrdom of Stephen, the persecution r:iged in 
Jerusalem with ever-increasing violence. It is recorded, " A3 
1 Acts rii. 67-60. * Acts xxvi. 10. 8 Acts xxvi. U. 



CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL. 149 

for Saul, he made havoc of the church, entering into every 
house, and, haling men and women, committed them to 
prison." 1 This cruel persecution in Jerusalem scattered tho 
Christians far and wide. Philip went to Samaria, and in one 
of the principal cities "preached Christ unto them. 5 ; His 
preaching was attended with wonderful success. Many con- 
verts were made, " and there was great joy in that city." 

The tidings of the success attending the preaching of tho 
gospel hi Samaria reaching Jerusalem, Peter and John were 
commissioned by those of the apostles who remained in the 
Oity to repair immediately to that province. The same mirac- 
ulous testimony accompanied their preaching as at the day 
of Pentecost. After a very successful tour, having " preached 
the gospel in many villages of the Samaritans," they returned 
to Jerusalem. 

A very interesting incident is here recorded respecting 
Philip. By divine direction he was journeying to Gaza, the 
extreme southern city of Palestine. Gaza was on the direct 
route to Egypt. An officer of high rank, connected with the 
household of Caiidace, queen of Egypt, had been up to 
Jerusalem, and was returning to his native country in his 
chariot. He was a devout man, and, as he rode along, was 
reading the scriptures. It so chanced that he had opened to 
the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, and was at that moment 
reading the seventh and eighth verses: — 

" He was led as a sheep to the slaughter ; and like a lamb 
dumb before his shearer, so opened he not his mouth. In his 
humiliation his judgment was taken away: and who shall 
declare his generation ? for his life is taken from the earth." 

Just then, the eunuch, overtaking Philip, invited him to a 
seat in the chariot by his side. Then, reverting to the scrip- 
ture which he was reading, he inquired of Philip, "I pray 
thee, of whom speaketh the prophet this ? of himself, or of 
some other man ? " 

"Then Philip began at the same scripture, and preached 
unto him Jesus." The eunuch, convinced that Jesus was the 
* Acts viii. 3, 



150 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Messiah, accepted him as his Saviour, became his disciple, and 
received the ordinance of Christian baptism, not as a member 
of any local church, but of the one universal Church of Jesus 
Christ. The scriptural account of this event is beautiful in 
its simplicity : — 

''- And, as they went on their way, they came unto a certain 
water. And the eunuch said, See, here is water : what doth 
hinder me to be baptized ? And Philip said, If thou believest 
with all thy heart, thou mayest ; and lie answered and said, 
I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. ibid he 
commanded the chariot to stand still : and they went down both 
into the water, both Philip and the eunuch ; and he baptized 
him. And, when they were come up out of the water, the 
Spirit of the Lord caught away Philip, that the eunuch saw 
him no more ; and he went on his way rejoicing." 

Philip continued his tour, preaching the gospel in all the 
principal cities of Judaea and Samaria, until he reached Caesa- 
rea, on the coast of the Mediterranean. We are not informed 
what success attended his preaching. 

Luke, to whom we are indebted for the account of the Acts 
of the Apostles, writes, — 

" And Saul, yet breathing out threatenings and slaughter 
against the disciples of the Lord, went unto the high priest, 
and desired of him letters to Damascus to the synagogues, 
that if he found any of this v?vly, whether they were men or 
women, he might bring them bound unto Jerusalem." * 

Damascus is supposed to be the oldest city in the world. 
Josephus says that it flourished before the days of Abraham. 
Surviving the ruins of Babylon and of Tyre, it was, in the days 
of Isaiah, called "the head of Syria." In the time of the 
apostles it was one of the most populous, opulent, and beauti- 
ful cities on the globe. It was situated amidst a paradise of 
luxuriance, and was abundantly watered by crystal streams 
flowing from the sides of Mount Lebanon. 

The distance between Jerusalem and Damascus was one 
hundred and thirty-six miles. In the slow mode of travelling 

t Acts is. J, ?. 



CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL. 151 

in those times by caravans, it occupied six days. Jesus never 
visited the city, it being farther north than he journeyed in 
any of his tours ; but his disciples, in their dispersion, had 
preached the gospel in the city, and many converts had been 
gathered there. It was mid-day as Saul and his fellow-travel- 
lers drew near the gates of Damascus. At noon, beneath the 
burning sun of the East, ah nature seemed in repose. The 
voices of the birds were hushed, the hum of industry ceased, 
and silence reigned. The e\ent which ensued, certainly one 
of the most momentous in the history of the world, and 
fraught with consequences of greater magnitude than any 
human imagination can conceive, cannot be better narrated 
than in the language of Saul himself : — 

" And it came to pass, as I made my journey, and was come 
nigh unto Damascus, about noon, suddenly there shone from 
heaven a great light round about me. And I fell unto the 
ground, and heard a voice saying unto me, Saul, Saul, why 
persecutest thou me ? And I answered, Who art thou, Lord ? 
and he said unto me, I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom thou 
persecutest. And they that were with me saw indeed the 
light, and were afraid ; but they heard not the voice of him 
that spake to me. And I said, What shall I do, Lord ? and 
the Lord said unto me, Arise, go into Damascus, and there it 
shall be told thee of all things which are appointed for thee 
to do. And when I could not see for the glory of that light, 
being led by the hand of them that were with me, I came into 
Damascus/' l 

In the centre of Damascus there was a street, still existing, 
three miles long, called Straight. Saul, whose eyes were utter- 
ly blinded by the brilliancy of the vision, was led by the hand 
mto this street, to the house of a man by the name of Judas. 
He remained for three days in darkness, surrendered to reflec- 
tion. The emotions which agitated him m view of his past 
persecution of the Christians, and of the conclusive evidence 
he now had of the Messiahship of Jesus, were so painful and 

1 Acts xxii. 6-12. In the account which Luke gives of thi3 event (Acta iy. i~C), 
BOme incidents we recorded which Saul omits. 



152 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

intense, that, during all this time, he cou:^ neither eat no* 
drink. 

There was in Damascus a disciple of Jesus by the name of 
Ananias, a devout man, of such irreproachable integrity of 
character, that ail men were constrained to acknowledge his 
virtues. 

To him the Lord J^sus a^pe^red in a vision, and said, 
" Arise, and go into the si r a 3'.' : which is called Straight, and 
inquire in the house of Judas for one called Saul of Tarsus ; 
for, behold, lie prayeth, and hath seen in a vision a man named 
Ananias coining in, and putting his hand on him, that he 
might receive his sight." 

Ananias replied, " Lord, I have heard by many of this man, 
how much evil he hath done to thy saints at Jerusalem ; and 
here he hath authority from the chief priests to bind all that 
call on thy name ' 

Jesus replied, " Go thy way ; for he is a chosen vessel unto 
me, to bear my name before the Gentiles and kings and the 
children of Israel : for I will show him how great things he 
must suffer for my name's sake." 

Ananias repaired immediately to the house of Judas, and, 
placing his hands in divin 3 benediction upon the head of Saul, 
said, " Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, A .'iat appeared unto thee 
in the way as thou earnest, hath sent me, that thou mightest 
receive thy sight, and be filled with the Holy Ghost." * 

The scales ft I from the eyes of Saul. His sight was restored. 
He arose refr 8 bed and strengthened, and immediately received 
the rite of baptism. Saul, having thus become a disciple of 
Jesus, and, by baptism, a member of his visible Church, imme- 
diately made his faith conspicuous by his self-sacrificing and 
energetic works. In the modest account which he subse- 
quently gave of his conversion to King Agrippa, he said v — 

" Whereupon, King Agrippa I I was not disobedient unto 
the heavenly vision ; but showed first unto them of Damascus, 
and at Jerusalem, and throughout all tho coasts of Judasa, and 
then to the Gentiles, that they should repent and turn to God, 
and do worVs meet for repentance." 2 

* Acts ix. 16. a Acts xxvi. 19, SO, 



CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL. 153 

As Saul was seen day after day, in the Jewish synagogue? 
cf Damascus, proclaiming with all his fervid powers of elo- 
quence that the crucified Jesus of Nazareth was the true Mes- 
siah, all that heard him were amazed. They said one to an- 
other, — 

"Is not this he that destroyed them which called on this 
name ii Jerusalem, and came hither for that intent, that, he 
might rring them bound unto the chief priests ? ". 

But the zeal of Saul daily increased in fervor ; and he "con- 
founded the Jews which dwelt at Damascus, proving that this 
is very Christ." ' The Jows, not being able to reply to his 
arguments, resorted, as usual, to mob violence to silence him. 
Jesus, in his paring counsels, to his disciples, had directed 
them, when persecuted in one city, to escape to another. The 
Jews entered into a conspiracy to kill Saul. They guarded 
the gates that he might not escape from the city, and engaged 
assassins to put him to death. 

The thick and massive walla of Damascus, rising about 
thirty feet high, afforded a site for quite a number of small 
dwellings. From the windows of one of these houses, in a 
dark night, the disciples lowered Saul down, outside the walls, 
in a basket, by a rope. There this heroic young man stood alone 
at midnight, with a career of fearful suffering clearly unveiled 
before him ; and yet his love for Jesus, his Lord and Master, 
was such, that he counted it all joy that he w r as permitted to 
suffer shame in his name. 

From Damascus, Saul directed his steps eastward into Ara- 
bia. How far he went, and what success he enjoyed in preach- 
ing to the Jews scattered throughout those regions, are not 
recorded. It is not known how many weeks or months were 
occupied upon this missionary tour. Several years after, allud- 
ing to this event in a letter which he wrote to the Galatians, 
he says, " I went into Arabia, and returned again unto Damas- 
cus. Then, after three years, I went up to Jerusalem." 2 

During all these three years, the sacred writers are silent 
respecting the adventures of Saul. At the end of ^his Mine, 

* £cts i*. 22, * Gal. i. 17, 18, 



154 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

he went up to Jerusalem. It is an interesting indication 
the slight intercourse there was between distant cities at that 
time, when but few could write, and there were no postal facili- 
ties, that the disciples at Jerusalem had not even heard of tae 
conversion of Saul. When he arrived in Jerusalem, and wished 
to throw himself into the arms of the friends of Jesus, it i.« 
written, " They were all afraid of him, and believed not that 
he was a disciple." 1 

But Barnabas, one of the disciples in Jerusalem, a man of 
wealth, and one who had already acquired reputation for liL 
benevolence,' 2 had in some way become acquainted with the 
conversion of Saul, and his zeal in the service of Jesus. He 
took Saul by the hand; led him to the apostles Peter and James, 
who still remained in Jerusalem, 8 and declared unto them how 
the Lord Jesus had appeared to Saul m the way, had spoken 
to him, and how Saul had preached boldly in Damascus in the 
name of Jesus. 

They then received Saul cordially, and he commenced 
preaching "in the name of the Lord Jesus " with all his 
wonted energy in the synagogues of Jerusalem. Those who 
had crucified Jesus, and who remembered that Saul had co- 
operated with them in their persecution of his disciples, were 
roused to intensity of rage. A conspiracy was formed, as in. 
Damascus, to kill him. 

Saul had been in Jerusalem but fifteen days, taking lodg • 
ings in the house of Peter, when the brethren informed him 
that he must immediately escape from Jerusalem, or he would 
lose his life. A stranger to fear, at first he was unwilling to 
go. But the Lord Jesus appeared to Saul as he was praying 
in the temple, and said to him, — 

" Make haste, and get thee quickly out of Jerusalem ; for 
they will not receive thy testimony concerning me." 

Saul replied, " Lord, they know that I imprisoned and beat 
in every synagogue them that believed on thee ; and, when 
the blood of thy martyr Stephen was shed, I also was stand- 
ing by, and consenting unto his death, and kept the raiment 
of them that slew him.' 7 

% Acts is. 3(J. 2 Acts iy. 3q. » QtX, i, i§. 



CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL. 155 

Jesus replied, " Depart ; for I will send thee far hence unto 
fe G-entiles." 1 Thus instructed, Saul, aided by the disciples, 
ti'ci-pcd from Jerusalem, and proceeding to Cajsarea, on the 
sea-coast, a distance of about sixty miles, took ship for Tarsus, 
hij native place. 

I'or a short time now, persecution ceased. The churches 
established in all the leading cities of Palestine had rest. 
T'.3 disciples preached the gospel far and wide with great suc- 
cess. In the language of the sacred annalist, the churches 
-"were edified, and, walking in the fear of the Lord and the 
comfort of the Holy Ghost, were multiplied." 

At this time, Peter set out on a missionary tour towards the 
sea-coast, preaching in all the towns and villages through which 
he passed. Arriving at Lydda, a small town about five miles 
from Joppa, which was on the Mediterranean shore, he found 
a man, by the name of iEneas, who had been confined to his 
bed for eight years. Peter healed him, saying, " iEneas, Jesus 
Christ maketh thee whole." This miracle gave such force to 
the ardent preaching of Peter, that, in the language of the 
inspired penman, " all that dwelt at Lydda and Saron turned 
to the Lord." 2 

At Joppa there was a disciple, whose name was Dorcas, 
greatly beloved for her charities. She was taken sick, and 
was laid out to be buried. It seems that the disciples there, 
hearing of the miraculous cure of iEneas, had faith that Peter 
could raise their sister from death's slumber. They sent two 
messengers to him to urge his hastening to Joppa. Upon his 
arrival, he was conducted immediately to the residence of 
Dorcas. The chamber in which the dead body lay was filled 
with mourners, many of them weeping, and showing the coats 
and garments which Dorcas had bestowed upon them. Peter 
kneeled down by the bedside and prayed, and then called upon 
the dead to arise. Dorcas opened her eyes, and sat up. Peter 
gave her his hand, led her out of the chamber, and presented 
her alive and well to her friends. 

1 Acta xxii. 18-21. 

2 Saron was the well-inhabited plain which extended from Lydda to Joppa 
(Acta ix. 30), 



156 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

This miracle, so astounding, was reported throughout tho 
city. Peter remained there several days, preaching the gos- 
pel, and residing with one Simon, a tanner. His success '.s 
indicated in the declaration, that " many believed in the Loivi.-.' 

About thirty miles north of Joppa, upon the seashore, was 
the important seaport of Ccesarea. A Roman force of soldiers 
was established there; and a man by the name of Cornel ins 
was the captain of an Italian band of a hundred men, wlr ih 
gave him the title of a centurion. Pie was a devout man, wlio 
had abandoned Roman paganism, and had become a worship- 
per of the true God. His noble character is depicted in tho 
words, "He ga^e much alms to the people, and prayed to God 
alway." 

One day, which, it seems, he had devoted to fasting and 
prayer, as he was upon his knees, at three o'clock in the after- 
noon, an angel of God appeared to him, and said, — 

" Cornelias, thy prayers and thine alms are come up for 9, 
memorial before God. Now send men to Joppa, and call for 
one Simon, whose surname is Peter : ho lodgeth with one 
Simon, a tanner, whose house is by the seaside. He shall tell 
thee what thou oughtest to do." 

Immediately Cornelius despatched two men to Joppa upon 
this mission. As, about noon the next day, they were approach- 
ing the city, Peter was upon the flat roof of the Louse, the 
usual place of retirement, engaged in prayer. In a vision he 
saw a sheet let down from heaven by its four corners, contain- 
ing animals of all kinds, — those reputed clean, and those which 
the ceremonial law pronounced unclean. A voice came to him, 
saying, — 

" Rise, Peter ; kill and eat." 

But Peter replied, " Not so, Lord ; for I have never eater- 
any thing that is common or unclean." 

The voice rejoined, " What God hath cleansed, that call not 
thou common." 

This vision was repeated three times in immediate succession 
While Peter was seated upon the house-top, pondering its sig 
nifrcance, the messengers coramissioned bv Cornelius arrived^ 



CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL. lHT 

and stood before the gate of the house, inquiring if Peter 
'odged there. 

The spirit then said to Peter, "Behold, three men seek thee. 
Arise, therefore, and get thee down, and go with them, doubt- 
ing nothing ; for I have sent them.' 5 1 

Peter immediately descended, met the messengers, and re- 
ceived from them the following communication : " Cornelius 
the centurion, a just man, and one that feareth God, and of 
good report among all the nation of the Jews, was warned 
from God by a holy angel to send for thee into his house, and 
to hear words of thee." 

Peter invited the men in, entertained them for the night, 
and the next Cicy accompanied them to Joppa. The vision had 
taught him, that, in the eye of God, there was no distinction 
between the clean and the unclean in the human family ; that 
the barrier between the Jew and the Gentile was now broken 
down ; and that the gospel of Jesus was now to be preached to 
all nations, tribes, and families alike. The centurion received 
Peter with profound reverence, regarding him as a divinely- 
appointed ambassador to him. Several of the friends of Cor- 
nelius, probably all Greeks or Ttomans who had abandoned 
idolatry, were assembled in his house to meet Peter. The 
zealous and bold apostle, addressing them, said, — 

u Ye know how that it is an unlawful thing for a man that 
is a Jew to keep company, or come unto one of another nation ; 
but God hath showed me that I should not call any man com- 
mon or unclean. Therefore came I, without gainsaying, as 
soon as I was sent for. I ask, therefore, for what intent ye 
have sent for me/*' 

Cornelius informed Peter of his vision, and of the direction 
given him by the angel to send for Peter, and receive instruc- 
tion from his lips. l '- Now, therefore," said he in conclusion, 
"we are all here present before God to hear all things that 
are commanded thee of God." 

We have but a brief abstract of what Peter said in reply, 
but enough to show us, without any doubt, what was the gos- 
pel which he preached to them. 

* AcliX. 20. 



158 BISTORT OF CHMSflANtft. 

" Of a truth/' said lie, " I perceive that God is no respecter 
of persons ; but, in every nation, he that feareth him, and work- 
eth righteousness, is accepted with him." 

After brief reference to Jesus Christ, " Lord of all," to his 
teachings, his miracles, his crucifixion, and his resurrection, he 
concluded by saying, " And he commanded us to preach unto 
the people, and to testify that it is he which was ordained of 
God to be the Judge of quick and dead. 1 To him give all the 
prophets witness, that, through his name, whosoever believeth 
in him shall receive remission of sins." 2 

Following these words of Peter, the miraculous influences 
of the Holy Spirit fell upon all alike, — upon Gentile as well 
as Jew. Several Jews had accompanied Peter to the house of 
Cornelius; and "they were astonished, because that on the 
Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Ghost ; for 
they heard them speak with tongues, and magnify God." 8 

Peter then said, " Can any man forbid water, that these 
should not be baptized which have received the Holy Ghost as 
well as we ? " He accordingly baptized these believing Gen- 
tiles in the name of the Lord Jesus, and thus received them 
directly into the church without insisting upon their first 
becoming Jews. 

When the tidings reached Jerusalem and other parts of 
Judsea that Peter had received Gentiles to the Church of 
Jesus Christ, which the Jews had supposed was intended for 
them alone, it created great excitement. Peter, after remain- 
ing a few days in Joppa, returned to Jerusalem. Here he 
was met by the disaffected brethren, who charged him with 
what they considered the great ceremonial crime of associating 
with " men uncircumcised," and eating with them. 

But Peter narrated all the circumstances, and so convin 
cingly, that " they held their peace, and glorified God, saying 
Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance untc 
life." 

1 All that have lived and died, or shall live when the archangel's trump *ha., 
sound, will stand before the judgment-seat of Jesus Christ. 

a Acts x. 34, 43. » Acts x. 45, 46. 



CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL. 159 

The other disciples, who, by the persecution at Jerusalem, 
had been scattered abroad, travelled as far as Phoenice and the 
Island of Cyprus, and to Antioch, in the extreme north, which 
was then the capital of Syria, and one of the largest cities in 
the world. They, however, preached the gospel only to the 
Jews, not considering the Gentiles as entitled to its privileges. 
In Antioch, the disciples were eminently successful in preach- 
ing the religion of Jesus ; so much so, that it is recorded that 
u great numbers believed, and turned unto the Lord." l 

The apostles in Jerusalem, hearing of the great religious 
interest which was excited in the metropolitan city of Antioch, 
sent Barnabas to assist the brethren there. He was " a good 
man, full of faith and the Holy Ghost." His heart was re- 
joiced by the scenes which he witnessed in Antioch, and elo- 
quently he urged the converts that with " purpose of heart 
they should cleave unto the Lord." His labors gave a new 
impulse to the conversions, and a much people was added to 
the Lord." 2 

Saul was at this time preaching in Tarsus, his native city, 
about thirty miles north-west from Antioch. Barnabas went 
to Tarsus in search of Saul, and brought him back with him 
to the metropolitan city. For a year Saul and Barnabas con- 
tinued in Antioch, preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ ; and 
there nr3t the discoles of Jesus received the title of Christians. 
This was about the vear of our Lord 44. As so many Gentile 
converts were now i Hiking into the churches, the Christians 
ceased to be regardea as merely a sect of the Jews, and the 
rapidly-increasing disciples in their varied organizations as- 
sumed gradually a new and independent character. 

It so happened about this time that there was a severe 
drought and famine in Judaea ; and Saul and Barnabas were 
sent by the Christians in Antioch with contributions for the 
suffering brethren there. Herod Agrippa I., an unprincipled 
ruler, grandson of Herod the Great, was then king of all Pales- 
tine. He, without any apparent cause, drew the sword of per- 
secution. James, the brother of John, was put to death. Peter 

* Acts xi. 21, 2 Acts xi. 24. 



1(50 iiisfoiit of cimisTtAtiiTf. 

was arrested and thrown into prison, and so carefully guarded 
by sixteen soldiers — four for each watch in the night, two 
chained to the prisoner in his cell, and two stationed at the 
outside door — as to render his escape apparently impossible. 
The king had decided to gratify the malice of the Jews, imme- 
diately after the passover, by putting Peter to death. 

The night had arrived which was supposed to be the last 
that Peter was to spend upon earth. In the morning he was 
to be led to his execution. He was quietly EJeoping between 
the two soldiers, bound to them by chains. The augel of the 
Lord, whom neither granite walls nor iron doors could exclude, 
entered the prison in dazzling effulgence. As he awoko Peter, 
the chains dropped from the prisoner's hands. 

" Arise," said the angel, " gird thyself, bind on thy sandals, 
cast thy garment about thee, and follow me." 

The angel led him through the intricacies of the prison, and 
by the guards who were paratyzed with fear, until he came to 
the outer iron portal which opened into the city. The massive 
gate, of its own accord, swung open upon its hinges. The angel 
led Peter into one of the streets, and took leave of him. It 
was midnight. Peter found himself near the house of Mary, 
the mother of John. Several of the disciples, knowing that 
Peter was to be executed the next day, had met there to pass 
the night in prayer. Peter knocked at the gate. A young 
girl by the name of Phoda went to the door; and when she 
heard the voice of Peter, instead of opening to him, she was 
so overjoyed and bewildered, that she ran back with the 
tidings. 

The disciples, knowing how apparently impossible it was for 
Peter to escape from the guard set over him, did not credit her 
assertion, but declared that she was insane. Upon going to 
the gate, however, they found, to their astonishment and delight, 
that Peter stood before them. He informed them of his 
miraculous deliverance, and the same night withdrew from the 
city. 1 

The dawn of the morning, revealing the events of the night, 

• Acts xii. C-17. 



6o:r version and ministry of saul. 161 

created intense commotion in the city. Herod commardedtho 
guard to be put to death, and in^it 'ted a rigorous but un- 
availing search throughout the city for Peter. Soon after, 
Herod left Jerusalem for Csesarea, and took up his abode 
there. On the 1st of August, 1 there was a magnificent festi- 
val in Caesarea in honor of the king. From all the region 
around, the population flocked into the spacious theatre, whose 
stone seats rose tier above tier in a vast semicircle, which was 
thronged with those eager to do homage to the infamous yet 
powerful monarch. As Herod entered, the edifice rang with 
applause. Seated upon a gorgeous throne, he addressed the 
multitude. With one voice the sycophantic throng shouted, 
"It is the voice of a god, and not cf a man ! " In the midst of 
this scene of pride and blasphemy, the angel of death smote 
Herod with an invisible dart ; and the wretched man was taken 
from the theatre in convulsions, which soon consigned him to 
the tomb. 

Saul and Barnabas had returned to Antioch, and, with other 
brethren, were earnestly engaged in preaching the gospel there. 
A divine intimation influenced the brethren to set apart these 
two distinguished disciples for a missionary excursion to the 
benighted regions beyond them: After a season of fasting 
and prayer, they laid their hands upon them, ordaining them 
for this special work. Antioch was situated upon the River 
Orontes, about twenty miles from its entrance into the Medi- 
terranean. The two missionaries repaired to Seleucia, an im- 
portant seaport on the coast. Far off in the west, the moun- 
tains of the majestic Island of Cyprus could be seen on a clear 
day, emerging from the horizon in shadowy glory. Cyprus 
was the native place of Barnauus. Taking ship, a sail of per- 
haps a hundred and fifty miles brought them to Salamis, a 
populous city upon the island, where there was a large colony 
of Jews. 

Here they preached the gospel of Jesus in the Jewish syna- 
gogue, but with what success we are not informed ; neither is 
it recorded how long they tarried in that city. They crossed 
1 Josephus, Ant. xix. 8-12. 



162 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

the island, a distance of about a hundred miles, from Sala- 
mis, on the eastern coast, o Paphos, the capital, on the west. 
Here the governor of the island, Sergius Paulus, resided. He 
was a serious-minded, worthy man ; and he sent for Saul and 
Barnabas, wishing to hear from them the principles of the new 
religioi , 

But a virulent opposer arose, a pretended sorcerer, by the 
name of Elymas, who did every thing in his power to prevent 
the governor from listening to the words of the discip ] es. 
Saul, "filled with the Holy Ghost," fixed his eyes upon the im- 
postor, and addressed him in the following terrible rebuke : — 

" full of all subtlety and all mischief, thou child of the 
devil, thou enemy of all righteousness ! wilt thou not cease to 
pervert the right ways of the Lord ? And now, behold, the 
hand of the Lord is upon thee, and thou shalt be blind, not 
seeing the sun for a season." 

The guilty opposer of the religion of Jesus was instantly 
struck with blindness, and groped his way along, " seeking 
some one to lead him by the hand." The governor, already 
deeply impressed by the teachings of the disciples, and aston- 
ished by the miracle, became himself a follower of Jesus. Of 
his subsequent life we know nothing, but trust that he endured 
to the end, and that he is now rejoicing in the paradise of 
God. 

In connection with this miracle, we find the name of Saul 
changed to Paul. Until this time, he is invariably spoken of 
as Saul. The sacred writer, recording these scenes at Paphos, 
simply says, " Saul, who also is called Paul." Ever after this 
he is spoken of as Paul. 

Paul and Barnabas, with Marls:, who had accompanied them 
as their attendant and assistant, sailing from Paphos, crossed 
the arm of the sea, and landed on the coast of Asia Minor, 
at the little seaport town of Perga in Pamphylia. Here, for 
some unexplained reason, Mark became dissatisfied, and ex- 
cited the displeasure of his companions by abandoning them, 
and returning to Jerusalem, which had been the home of las 
earlier years. 



Conversion and ministry of saul. 163 

Xhe two intrepid disciples made but a short tarry at Perga. 
Entering the wild passes of the Pisidian mountains, they 
traversed a desert region, encountering every step of the way 
perils of robbers, until they reached the important city of 
Antioch in Pisidia, about a hundred miles from the sea- 
coast. This populous city wa3 inhabited by Greeks, Jews, 
and a strong Boman colony. The sabbath came. Paul and 
Barnabas, according to their custom, repaired to the Jewish 
synagogue. As strangers of distinction, they were invited to 
address the people. Luke, in 'lie Acts of the Apostles, has 
given us quite a full abstract of the address of Paul upon 
this occasion. 1 Here, as everywhere, " Christ and him cruci- 
fied " was the theme of the apostle's discourse. First he proved 
from the prophets that Jesus was the Messiah ; that, in accord- 
ance with the voice of prophecy, he had been put to death by 
wicked men, and on the third day had risen from the grave. 
He closed with the following words : — 

"And we declare unto you glad tidings, how that the promise 
which was made unto the fathers, God hath fulfilled the same 
unto us, their children, in that he hath raised up Jesus again. 
Be it known unto you, therefore, men and brethren, that 
through this man is preached unto you the forgiveness of 
sins ; and by him all that believe are justified from all 
things, from which ye could not be justified by the law of 
Moses. Beware, therefore, lest that come upon you which is 
spoken of in the prophets : Behold, ye despisers, and wonder, 
and perish ; for I work a work in your days, — a work which ye 
shall in no wise believe, though a man declare it unto you." 

There were many Gentiles present. The Jews, as a body, 
did not favorably receive this address of Paul. The Gentiles, 
on the contrary, entreated him to preach to them again on the 
next sabbath. There were also many of the Jews who united 
with them in this request. During the week, Paul and Barnabas 
were doubtless busy preaching the gospel as they could find op- 
portunity. The next sabbath, the synagogue was thronged. 
"Almost the whole city came together to hear the word of 

» Acts xiii. 16-41. 



164 msfoRT of cnmsTiAinnt. 

God ; but, when the Jews saw the multitudes, they were filled 
with envy, and spake against those things which were spoken 
by Paul, contradicting and blaspheming.''' 1 

It is of no avail to present the truth to those who are de- 
termined not to receive it. To these cavilling Jews Paul and 
Barnabas replied, "It was necessary that the word of God 
should first have been spoken to you ; but seeing ye put it 
from you, and judge yourselves unworthy of everlasting life, 
lo, we turn to the Gentiles : for so hath the Lord commanded 
us, saying, I have set thee to be a light of the Gentiles, that 
thou shouldest be for salvation unto the ends of the earth." 2 

Luke adds the expressive words, "And, when the Gentiles 
heard this, they were glad, and glorified the word of the Lord ; 
and as many as were ordained to eternal life believed." 

The successful preaching of the gospel has almost invariably 
excited corresponding antagonism. Converts were multiplied ; 
and penetrating the region around, proclaiming the glad tid- 
ings of salvation through -a suffering Messiah, they established 
flourishing churches in many places. Here, for the first time, 
we find female influence arrayed against the cause of Christ. 
The hostile Jews won to their side some ladies of high re- 
spectability, and, through them, influenced the political leaders. 
Thus so formidable an opposition was roused, that Paul and 
Barnabas were expelled from the city, and from its imme- 
diately surrounding region. 

They therefore pressed on their way to Iconium, nearly a 
hundred miles east from Antioch. Here, also, they found a 
mixed population of Greeks, Jews, and Bomans. They re- 
paired to the synagogue, and preached the gospel of Jesus 
with such success, that it is recorded, "A great multitude, both 
of the Jews and also of the Greeks, believed." As usual, op- 
position was excited ; but it was at first not sufficiently strong 
to drive them from the city. "We are told that "long time 
abode they, speaking boldly in the Lord." At length, the 
opposition assumed very formidable proportions. A riotous 
mob was roused by the unbelieving^ Jews, who threatened tu 
stone Paul and Barnabas. 

* Acts xiii. 45. * Isa. zlix, 0, 



CONVERSION AND MINISTRY OF SAUL. 16S 

They therefore withdrew from Iconium ; and, continuing 
their journey eastward (forty or fifty miles), they reached the 
small town of Lystra. Here they found a man who had been 
a cripple from his birth, and who had never walked. Paul 
healed him. The rude, superstitious people, accustomed to 
the idolatrous worship of almost any number of gods, ex- 
claimed, " The gods are come to us in the likeness of men ! " 

Assuming that Paul and Barnabas were two of their favor- 
ite gods, — Jupiter and Mercurius, — they summoned the 
priest from the temple of Jupiter, which was reared before the 
principal gate of the city, and, with garlands and sacrifices, 
were preparing to offer idolatrous worship to the strangers. 
When Paul and Barnabas perceived what the Lystrians were 
about to do, they were horror-stricken, and, rushing in among 
the idolaters, remonstrated so vehemently, as to dissuade them, 
though with difficulty, from their purpose. 

Some malignant Jews came from Antioch and Iconium, and 
roused the fickle-minded mob, so that they stoned Paul, and 
drew him out of the city, supposing him to be dead. The 
converts, who were not numerous enough to prevent this vio- 
lence, gathered around the bruised and gory body ; when Paul 
revived, and, with characteristic bravery, went back again into 
the city. 

The next day, Paul, accompanied by Barnabas, proceeded to 
another city (Derbe), a few miles farther east. Here they 
pleached the gospel for some time, gaining many disciples; 
when li they returned again to Lystra, and to Iconium and Anti- 
och, confirming the souls of the disciples, and exhorting them 
to continue in the faith, and that we must through much tribu- 
lation enter into the kingdom of God. And when they had 
ordaiivxj them elders in every church, and had prayed with 
fa»*tang, they commended them to the Lord, on whom they 
believed' 1 

TJtuy then returned by the same route they had already 
traveled, preaching as they went, till they reached Perga, 
whence they took ship for Antioch. It is conjectured that 



166 HISTORY OF CI1RISTIANITY. 

this tour occupied about a year. Upon their arrival in An- 
tioch, they gathered all the disciples, and recounted to them 
the events of their excursion, dwelling particularly upon the 
fact that God " had opened the door of faith unto the Gen- 
tiles." They both continued in Antioch for a " long time," 
preaching the gospel. 



CHAPTER Vn. 



MISSIONARY ADVENTURES. 



The First Controversy. — "Views of the Two Parties. — Council at Jerusalem. — Re- 
sults of Council. — The Letter. — Vacillation of Petor. — Rebuked by Paul.— 
The Missionary Excursion of Paul and Barnabas. — They traverse the Island of 
Cyprus. — Land on the Coast of Asia Minor. — Mark returns to Syria. — Results 
of this Tour. — Paul and Silas set out on a Second Tour through Asia Minor. 
— Cross the Hellespont. — Introduction of Christianity to Europe. -Heroism of 
Paul atPhilippi. — Tour through Macedonia and Greece. — Character of Paul's 
Preaching. — Peter's Description of the Final Conflagration. — False Charges.— 
Paul in Athens ; in Corinth. — Return to Jerusalem. 



HE Jews had supposed that the Messiah was to 




come to the Jews alone, and that no one conld 
become a member of his kingdom unless he 
first became a Jew. But Paul and Barnabas 
were preaching to the Gentiles, and establish- 
ing churches among them. Thus quite a se- 
rious dissension sprang up among the Chris- 
tians, who had previously been Jews, upon this question. 
While some of the brethren ardently advocated the doctrine, 
"Except ye be circumcised after the manner of Moses, ye 
cannot be saved," Paul opposed this sentiment with all his 
energies. Several of these " Judaizing Christians," as they 
were termed, came down to Antioch from Judsea, and so 
troubled the Christians there with disputations which seemed 
to threaten the very foundations of Christianity, that it was 
determined to summon a council of the most eminent Chris- 
tians at Jerusalem, the seat of the mother church, to settle 
the agitating question. 

167 



168 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Paul and Barnabas, with several other members of the 
Church at Antioch, were commissioned as delegates to attend 
this council. On their journey, as they passed through the 
cities of Samaria, preaching by the way, they announced the 
glad tidings that God was receiving the Gentiles, and confer- 
ring upon them the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the same as upon 
the Jews. It h estimated that fifteen years had now passed 
since Paul traversed that same road, from Jerusalem to Da- 
mascus, to persecute the Christians. Since that time, Paul 
ha.l twice visited the Holy City, and Christianity had made 
extraordinary progress throughout Syria and Asia Minor. 
Upon arriving at Jerusalem, the council was convened, over 
which James, pastor of the church there, presided. As soon 
as the council was opened, several of the Judaizing Christians 
arose, and argued that all Gentile converts should be circum- 
cised, and that they should punctiliously observe all the rites 
of the ceremonial law. Peter was the first one to reply on 
the other side. We have an abstract of his speech : — 

"Men and brethren," said he, "ye know how that a good 
while ago 1 God made choice among us, that the Gentiles, by 
my mouth, should hear the word of the gospel, and believe. 
And God, which knoweth the hearts, bare them witness, giv- 
ing them the Holy Ghost, even as he did unto us ; and put no 
difference between us and them, purifying their heart3 by 
faith. Now, therefore, why tempt ye God, to put a yoke upon 
the neck of the disciples, which neither our fathers nor we 
were able to bear ? But we believe that through the grace of 
the Lord Jesus Christ we shall be saved, even as the}'." 2 

Then Barnabas and Paul gave an account of their mission- 
ary tour through Asia Minor, and of the wonderful success 
with which God had blessed the preaching of the gospel 
among the Gentiles. James then rose, whose opinion as pre- 
siding officer, and pastor of the metropolitan church, would 
have great weight with the council, and very earnestly and 
convincingly sustained the views advocated by Peter, Paul, 
and Barnabas. The result recorded by Luke was as follows : — 
1 About ten years before, * Act» *v. 7-14, 



MISSIONARY ADVENTURES. 169 

"Then pleased it the apostles and elders, with the whole 
church, to send chosen men of their own company to Antioch 
with Paul and Barnabas ; namely, Judas surnamed Barsabas, 
and Silas, chief men among the brethren : and they wrote 
letters by them after this manner : — 

" The apostles and elders and brethren send greeting unto 
the brethren which are of the Gentiles in Antioch and 
Syria and Cilicia : Forasmuch as we have heard that certain 
which went out from us have troubled 3*011 with words, sub- 
verting your souls, saying, Ye must be circumcised, and keep 
the law (to whom we gave no such commandment), it seemed 
good unto us, being assembled with one accord, to send cho- 
sen men unto you with our beloved Barnabas and Paul, — 
men that have hazarded their lives for the name of our Lord 
Jesus Christ. We have sent, therefore, Judas and Silas, who 
shall also tell you the same things by mouth : for it seemed 
good to the Holy Ghost, and to us, to lay upon you no greater 
burden than these necessary things, — that ye abstain from 
meats offered to idoh, and from blood, and from things stran- 
gled, and from fornication ; from which if ye keep yourselves, 
ye shall do well. Fare ye well." - 

The brethren returned to Antioch, and communicated to the 
assembled church there the result of the council. It gave 
great satisfaction ; and though, for a time, the all-important 
question continued here and there to trouble the churches, 
eventually there was universal acquiescence in the decision of 
the brethren at Jerusalem. After this, Paul and Barnabas 
continued some time in Antioch, " teaching and preaching the 
word of the Lord." 

In the mean time, Peter came to Antioch to assist the 
brethren in their labors there. Impetuous and versatile, 
and far from infallible, he at first lived in free intercourse 
with the Gentile converts, eating with them, and meeting 
them in social friendship on terms of entire, equality ; but 
suddenly, "through fear of those who were of the circum- 
cision," we find him withdrawing from those whom he had 
i 4cts jcv. 23-39. 



170 HISTORX OF CHRISTIANITY. 

just been treating as equals, and giving his example in favoi 
of those who demanded that the Gentiles should become Jews. 

This vacillation and inconsistency on the part of Peter 
excited the indignation of Paul. The account which Paul 
gives of this transaction is as follows : — 

" But, when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him to 
the face, because he was to be blamed. For, before that certain 
came from James, he did eat with the Gentiles ; but, when 
they were come, he withdrew, and separated himself, fearing 
them which were of the circumcision. And the other Jews 
dissembled likewise with him, insomuch that Barnabas also 
was carried away with their dissimulation. But, when I saw 
that they walked not uprightly according to the truth of the 
gospel, I said unto Peter before them all, — 

"If thou, being a Jew, livest after the manner of Gentiles, 
and not as do the Jews, why compellest thou the Gentiles to 
live as do the Jews ? We who are Jews by nature, and not 
sinners of the Gentiles, knowing that a man is not justified 
by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, — 
even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that we might be jus- 
tified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law; 
for Ivy the works of the law shall no flesh bo justified." l 

There is no evidence that this event caused any permanent 
alienation between the two apostles. It is more probable that 
Peter, whose mind was susceptible of such rapid changes, im- 
mediately relented, and, with all the gushings of his generous 
and loving nature, returned to duty. It is pleasant to read in 
one of the subsequent epistles of Peter the words, "Even as 
our beloved brother Paul hath written unto you." 2 

Soon after this, the enterprising spirit of Paul induced him 
to leave the comparative tranquillity of his home and labors in 
Antioch, and to revisit all the cities and villages in Asia Mi- 
nor, where he, with Barnabas, had established churches. He 
said to Barnabas, " Let us go again and visit our brethren in 
every city where we have preached the word of the Lord, and 
see how they do." 3 

* Gfcl. ii. 11-10. > % Pet. iii. 15. « 4-cts ?v. 3S» 



MISSIONARY ADVENTURES. 171 

Barnabas wished to take Mark with them again as an 
attendant. This John Mark, the same one who wrote the Gospel 
under his name, was the nephew of Barnabas, being his sister's 
son. Paul was unwilling to take him, being displeased with 
his conduct on their previous tour, when he u departed from 
them from Painphylia, and went not with them to their work." 
Barnabas was probably not a man of very much force of char- 
acter, as is indicated by his being carried away with the dis- 
simulation of Peter to which we have alluded. He had cer- 
tainly occupied a secondary position on the previous missionary 
tour, and Paul was perhaps not unwilling to exchange him for 
some other brother. 

There is no evidence that there was any angry controversy 
here, — any thing inconsistent with the Christian integrity and 
brotherly kindness of the two men. Barnabas took Mark with 
him, and, embarking at Seleucia, sailed for the Island of Cy- 
prus. Paul chose Silas as his companion, one of the delegates 
who had been sent from the council at Jerusalem to Antioch. 
Journeying by land, and probably on foot through Syria and 
Cilicki, they visited the churches in Asia Minor, in a route 
from east to west, instead of, as before, from west to east. 

Proceeding through Derbe, he came to Lystra, where, on the 
previous tour, he had been cruelly stoned. Here he found a 
young convert by the name of Timothy, for whom he formed the 
strongest of earthly attachments. Timothy's mother was a 
Jewess ; but his father was a Gentile, a Greek. His lineage was 
good, as Paul speaks of " the unfeigned faith which dwelt first 
in thy grandmother Lois and thy mother Eunice." l Timothy 
attached himself to Paul, and ever after they were associated 
as father and son. Paul repeatedly calls him ei my son," " my 
own son in the faith," and writes, "Ye know, that, as a son 
with the fatjiei, he hath served with me in the gospel." 2 

Timothy was the son of a Jewess; and his father, though a 
Greek, was unquestionably not an idolater, but a proselyte. 
While Paul was carrying " to all the churches " the decision 
of the. council in Jerusalem, — that Gentiles were not to be 

* 2 Tim. I 5, 2 Phil, ii. 22. 



172 E1ST0KY 01 CHRISTIANITt. 

forced into Judaism upon becoming Christians, — still, out of 
regard to the strong prejudices of the Jews among whom he 
was going, he caused Timothy to be circumcised. Some have 
regarded this as inconsistent conduct on the part of Paul; 
others have considered it but an indication of his far-sighted 
wisdom and caution. But for this, the hostile Jews would 
have had a new and formidable weapon of opposition to wield 
against him. As Timothy could not be regarded as a Gentile, 
the action of Paul could not be deemed inconsistent with the 
decision of the council at Jerusalem. 

Paul, Sftas, and Timothy passed through the whole central 
region of Asia Minor, preaching the gospel in all its cities and 
villages ; but we have no record of the incidents which attend- 
ed their labors, or of the adventures which they encountered. 
It was undoubtedly a successful excursion ; for the sacred his- 
torian writes, "And so were the churches established in the 
faith, and increased in numbers daily." * 

Passing through the provinces of Phrygia and Mysia, they 
came to Troas, on the eastern coast of the iEgean Sea, not far 
from the mouth of the Hellespont. Here the vision of a man 
appeared to Paul in the night, saying, " Come over into Mace- 
donia and help us." They therefore took a vessel at Troas, 
and sailed in a north-westerly direction, among the islands of 
the iEgean Sea, till they came to the important Island of Sam- 
othracia. Passing around this island on the north, they 
directed their course to Philippi, on the Macedonian coast. 
This was the chief city of that part of Macedonia. There was 
an important Homan colony established here, and a synagogue 
of the Jews outside of the walls. Here they remained several 
days, probably, as was ever their custom, on the week-days 
preaching the gospel in the streets of the city, and from house 
to house. On the sabbath, they went to the Jewish syna- 
gogue by a river-side. The following incident is recordod as 
occurring at this time and place : — 

" A certain woman named Lydia, a seller of purple, of the 
city of Thyatira, which worshipped God, heard us; vinse 

i 4cts syi. 5. 



MISSIONARY ADVENTURES. ITS 

heart the Lord opened, that she attended unto the things 
which were spoken of Paul. And when she was baptized, and 
her household, she besought us, saying, If ye have judged ine 
to be faithful to the Lord, come into my house, and abide there. 
And she constrained us." 1 

Thus peacefully the gospel was first transplanted into Europe. 
But in this life, " after the calm, the storm " seems to be the 
rule. Some persons of influence owned a slave-girl, who was 
believed to be possessed "with a 6pirit of divination." How 
much of this was imposture cannot now be known. But the 
owners of this damsel derived much profit from the many cred- 
ulous people who flocked to her to have their fortunes told. 
•Impelled by some unexplained influence, as she met Paul and 
Silas day after day, she exclaimed, in the hearing of all the 
people, — 

"'These men are the servants of the most high God, which 
show unto us the way of salvation." 

At length. Paul, "being grieved, turned and said, I com- 
mand thee, in the name of Jesns Christ, to come out of her." 

Her powers of divination, whatever they were, immediately 
left her. Her masters were enraged. All hope of future gain 
was at an end. They seized Paul and Silas, and dragged them 
before the city authorities. It was not easy to bring any accu- 
sation against them ; for the law allowed no remedy"for prop- 
erty depreciated by exorcism. They therefore framed a charge 
in which truth and falsehood were singularly blended. 

"'These men," said they, "being Jews, do exceedingly trou- 
ble our city, and teach customs which are not lawful for us to 
receive, neither to observe, being Romans." 

The Jews had recently, in consequence of some disturbance, 
been all driven out of Rome. 2 They were generally -hated 
and despised. It was also a principle in Roman law, that any 
religious innovations which threatened to unsettle the minds 
of the people, or to create tumult, were to be rigorously sup- 
pressed. Under these circumstances, it was not difficult to 
rouse the violence of the mob. 

i Acts xvi, 14, 15. » Acta xviii. 2. 



1?4 HISTORY OF CBRISTlANlft. 

The magistrates, apparently without listening to any d4?fonce 5 
ordered them to be led to the whipping-post and scourged 
The scourging upon the bare back by the brawny arms of s 
Roman lictor was indeed a terrible ordeal for any one to pass 
through. Bruised with the lash, and fainting from pain and 
the loss of blood, they were thrust into a dark, pestilent ial 
dungeon in the inner prison ; and their feet were made fast 
in the stocks. The jailer had special charge to keep them 
safely. The scene which ensued cannot be better narrated 
than in the language of Luke : — 

"And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises 
unto God ; and the prisoners heard them. And suddenly there 
was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison 
were shaken ; and immediately all the doors were opened, and 
every one's bands were loosed. And the keeper of the prison 
awaking out of his sleep, and seeing the prison-doors open, he 
drew out his sword, and would have killed himself, supposing 
that the prisoners had been fled. But Paul cried with a loud 
voice, saying, Do thyself no harm ; for we are all here. Then 
he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, and 
fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out, and 
said, Sirs, what must I do to be eaved ? And they said, Be- 
lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt bo saved, and 
thy house. And they spake unto him the word of the Lord, 
and to all that were in his house. And he took them the 
same hour of the night, and washed their stripes ; and was 
baptized, he and all his, straightway." 

The morning dawned. The magistrates, probably some- 
what alarmed in view of the violent measures which they 
had pursued, sent officers to the jailer with the order, that 
he should "let those men go." Paul and Silas were both 
Roman citizens, and Paul was a lawyer. The Roman law 
did not allow any one entitled to the dignity of Roman citi- 
zenship to be exposed to the ignominy of scourging. 1 

1 " How often/' says Cicero, "has the exclamation, ' I am a Iionum citietn!' 
brought aid and safety, even among barbarians in the remotest parts of the 
earth I "— Cicero, Verr. v. 57. 



MISSIONARY ADVENTURES. 175 

These Roman citizens, without any form of trial, without any 
legal condemnation, had been openly scourged in the market* 
place. Paul therefore replied to the message from the magis- 
trates ordering them to be liberated, — 

"They have beaten us openly uncondemned, being Romans, 
and have cast us into prison ; and now do they thrust us out 
privily ? Nay, verily ; but let them come themselves and fetch 
us out." 

The magistrates were greatly alarmed when they learned 
that their victims were Roman citizens. The report of the 
outrage at Rome would cost them their offices, if not their 
lives. They therefore hastened to the prisoners, and became 
suppliants before those whom they had so inhumanly perse- 
cuted, entreating them to depart out of their city. Paul 
made no appeal to the authorities at Rome ; he was too busy 
preaching the gospel to devote any time to personal redress : 
but the course he pursued throughout that scene of suffering 
placed Christianity on high vantage-ground in Philippi, and 
secured for its advocates the protection of law. 

These heroic men made no haste to leave the city. Return- 
ing to the house of Lydia, they met all the brethren who by 
their instrumentality had been led to embrace the religion of 
Jesus, and addressed them in farewell words of solace and 
counsel. Thus far it appears, from the form of the narrative, 
that Luke, the historian of the Acts of the Apostles, had 
accompanied the brethren on this missionary excursion. It is 
inferred that Luke and Timothy remained a little longer in 
Philippi, and that Luke did not rejoin Paul for some time. 

Paul and Silas set out to cross the mountains to Amphipo- 
lis, a city about thirty miles south-west from Philippi : thence 
they pressed on twenty-five miles, to Apollonia; and thence 
thirty-two miles farther, to Thessalonica. We have no record 
how long they stopped at the two first places, or what success 
attended their preaching there. In this important seaport, 
the most populous city in Macedonia, Paul and Silas remained 
for some time. The following is the inspired record of the 
commencement of Paul's labors there : — 



iTG tiisTont o# ctintsTiAtiiTt. 

u They came to Thessalonica, where was a synagogue of the 
Jews : and Paul, as his manner was, went in unto them, and 
three sabbath days reasoned with them out of the scriptures, 
opening and alleging that Christ must needs have suffered, 
and risen again from the dead ; and that this Jesus, whom I 
preach unto you, is Christ." 

The preaching of Paul and Silas in Thessalonica resulted 
in the conversion of many, both of the Jews and the Gentiles. 
It is recorded that among the converts there were numbered "of 
the devout Greeks a great multitude, and of the chief women 
not a few." In Paul's two Epistles to the Thessalonians, we 
find quite a minute account of the sentiments which he 
advanced in this city. The spiritual reign of Christ, his 
second coming in clouds of glory with his holy angels, and 
the endless happiness which his disciples would then inherit, 
were the themes of infinite moment which inspired his fervid 
eloquence. The following extract from one of his letters, 
which he subsequently wrote to the Thessalonians from Cor- 
inth, will show the manner in which he treated such themes. 
Speaking of the second coming of Jesus in the day of his 
exaltation, he wrote, — 

" But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, con- 
cerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as 
others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died 
and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will 
God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word 
of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the 
coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. 
For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, 
with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God ; 
and the dead in Christ shall rise first : then we which are 
alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the 
clouds to meet the Lord in the air ; and so shall we ever be 
with the Lord." 1 

This graphic account of the sublime scenes to be witnessed 
at the second coming of our Lord Jesus agitated the church 
i 1 Thess. iv. 13-17. 



MISSIONARY ADVENTURES. 177 

in Thessalonica, as the Christians there supposed that the 
coming of Jesus was to be hourly expected. Tlik led Paul 
to write another letter, in which he corrected that error. In 
this he wrote, — 

M Kow, we beseech you, brethren, by the coming of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, and by our gathering-together unto him, that ye 
be not soon shaken in mind, or be troubled, neither by spirit, 
nor \yy word, nor by letter as from us, as that the day of 
Christ is at hand. Let no man deceive 3-ou by any moans; 
for that day shall not come except there come a falliiig-away 
first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition; 
who opposeth and cxalteth himself above all that is called 
God, or that is worshipped ; so that lie as God sitteth in the 
temple of God, showing himself that he is God." l 

Who the " man of sin n ls remains an undecided question. 
The Protestants have generally applied the words to the Pops 
of Rome. It will be remembered, that when Jesus took his 
final departure from his disciples, ascending into the skies in 
bodily presence before them from Mount Olivet, two angels 
appeared to them, and said, — 

" Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? 
This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, 
shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into 
heaven." 2 

The second coming of Christ, to reap the fruits of his 
humiliation and his atoning sacrifice in the establishment of 
his spiritual kingdom, was a prominent theme in the teach- 
ing both of Christ and his apostles. The language of Peter 
upon this subject unfolds, indeed, a scene of wonderful sub- 
limity:— 

" Thio second epistle, beloved, I now write unto you, in 
both which I stir up your pure minds by way of remembrance ; 
that ye may be mindful of the words which were spoken before 
by the holy prophets, and of the commandment of us the apos- 
tles of the Lord and Saviour : knowing this first, that there 
shall come in the last days scoffers, walking after their own 

* 2 Thess. ii. 1-4. * Acts i. 11. 

12 



178 HISTORY OF CtlRlSTlAXlTT. 

lusts, and saying, Where is the promise of his coming ? for, 
since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they w^re 
from the beirinninsj of the creation. 

" For this they willingly are ignorant of, that by the word 
of God the heavens were of old, and the earth standing out 
of the water and in the water ; whereby the world that then 
was, being overflowed with water, perished ; but the heavens 
and the earth, which are now, b}*- the same word are kept in 
store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment and per- 
dition of ungodly men. 

"But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one 
day is with the Lord as a thousand yearSj and a thousand 
years as one day. The Lord is not slack concerning his 
promise as some men count slackness, but is long-suffering to 
us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should 
come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come as a 
thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away 
with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent 
heat ; the earth also, and the works that are therein, shall be 
burned up. 

" Seeing, then, that all these things shall be dissolved, what 
manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation 
and godliness, looking fjr and hasting unto the coming of 
the day of God, wherein the heavens, being on fire, shall be 
dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat? 
Nevertheless, we, according to his promise, look for new 
heavens and a new earth, wherein dwellelh righteousness." * 

These emphatic announcements, that the Lord Jesus, who 
had risen from the grave and ascended to heaven, would come 
again in glory with an angelic retinue to establish an ever- 
lasting kingdom, were interpreted by hostile or careless hearers 
to intimate that the Christians had designs against the Roman 
government, which they intended by revolution to overthrow ; 
that they intended to establish the throne of Jesus upon the 
ruins of the throne of Caesar. This charge was brought 
against Jesus, notwithstanding his reiterated declaration, 
" My kingdom is not of this world/- 
i 2 Tet. iii. 1-13. 



MISSIONARY AD VENTURES. 179 

The enemies of Paul and Silas took advantage of this mis- 
representation to accuse them of treason against the ftoman 
.--overnment. The record is as follows : — 

" But the Jews which believed not, moved with envy, took 
nto them certain lewd fellows of the baser sort, and gathered 

company, and set all the city on an uproar, and assaulted the 
louse of Jason, and sought to bring them out to the people. 
1ml, when they found them not, they drew Jason and certain 
Kethren unto the rulers of the city, crying, These that have 
-Hirned the world upside down are come hither also ; whom 
.1 ason hath received : and these all do contrary to the decrees 
&f Caesar, saying that there is another king, one Jesus." 1 

The commotion in the city was so great, and the peril of 
aaob violence so imminent, that the brethren sent Paul and 
Silas by night to Berea, an interior town, about sixty miles 
south-west of Thessalonica. In this small rural city, situated 
on the eastern slope of the Olympian mountains, Paul found 
an intelligent, unprejudiced people, who listened gladly to the 
tidings of salvation which he brought them. 

" They were more noble," writes Luke, " than those in Thessa- 
iOnica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, 
and searched the scriptures daily whether those things were 
so. Therefore many of them believed; also of honorable 
women which were Greeks, and of men, not a few." 2 

The malignant Jews in Thessalonica, hearing of Paul's suc- 
cess in Berea, sent some of their number to rouse the mob 
there against him. Paul, aware that he could hope to accom- 
plish but little amidst scenes of popular clamor and violence, 
qui stly withdrew. He, however, left Silas and Timothy behind : 
they, being less prominent, would not so much attract the atten- 
tion of the populace. 

Aided by the brethren of Berea^ Paul repaired to the sea- 
coast, where he embarked for the city of Athens. Coasting 
along the western shore of the Island of Euboea, a distance of 
ninety miles, they came to Cape Cclonna^tie southern extrem- 
ity of Attica. Her«r. on Sumum's high rronuntory, stood the 

i Acts jeySL 5-r. a Aits xvii. 11. 12. 



180 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

temple of Minerva, a landmark to the Greek sailors. The 
eminence is still crowned with the rnins of its white columns. 

Rounding this cape, the navigator soon came in sight of the 
splendid city of Athens, "built nob]y on the iEgean shore, the 
eye of Greece, the mother of arts and eloquence." 1 Idolatrous 
shrines crowned every height, and gorgeous temples for the 
worship of false gods were found in all the streets. Athens 
was probably by far the most renowned city Paul had yet en- 
tered ; and it embraced a large class of poets, philosophers, and 
men of literary leisure. "All the Athenians, and strangers 
which wero there, spent their time in nothing else but either 
to tell or to hear some new thing." 

The statues to the gods were so numerous, that Petronius, 
a Roman satirist, declared that it was easier to find a go X 
than a man in Athens. The spirit of Paul was roused as 
never before in seeing this great city so entirely surrendered 
to idolatry. In the synagogue of the Jews, and daily in 
the market-place, and from house to house, as he could find 
persons to listen to him, he proclaimed the religion of Jesus. 
His earnestness, and the power of his eloquent words, soon 
arrested general attention. Some of the proud philosophers 
turned contemptuously from him, calling him a "babbler:" 
others had their curiosity excited, and wished to hear more, 
saying, "He seemeth to be a setter-forth of strange gods, 
because," adds Luke, " he preached unto them Jesus and the 
resurrection." 2 

There was at Athens a renowned eminence, called Mars' 
Hill, upon whose summit was reared one of the most majestic 
buildings of ancient or modern days, called the Acropolis. 
Here the court of the Areopagus, the most solemn of the 
Grecian courts, held its sessions. Here Paul was taken by 
the Athenians to expound to them his doctrine. I^ever had 
he addressed such an audience before. Apparently never 
before, since he became a disciple of Jesus, had he encountered 
an hour to be fraught with more momentous consequences. 
The sacred historian has given us his address, or an abstract 

1 Paradise Regained. B Act3 xvii. 18. 



MISSIONARY AD-VENTURES. 181 

of it, upon this occasion. In its appropriateness to the cir- 
cumstances of the case, it is universally regarded as unsur- 
passed in the records of human eloquence : — 

'• Yq men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too 
superstitious ; l for as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I 
found an altar with this inscription, To the Unknown God. 
Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto 
ym. God that made the world and all things therein, seeing 
t-tat he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples 
made with hands; neither is worshipped with men's hands, as 
though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life and 
breath and all things ; and bath made of one blood all nations 
of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath deter- 
mined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their 
habitation ; that they should seek the Lord, if haply they 
might feel after him and find him, though he bo not far from 
every one of us. 

"For in him we live and move, and have our being; as 
certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his 
offspring. Forasmuch, then, as we are the offspring of God, 
we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold or 
silver or stone, graven by art and man's device. And the 
times of this ignorance God winked at, but now commandeth 
all men everywhere to repent ; because he hath appointed a 
day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by 
that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given 
assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the 
dead." 2 

The results of this address upon the minds of those who 
listened were various. Some of the philosophers, when they 
heard of the resurrection of the dead, " mocked." Many of the 
Jews were probably irritated at the suggestion that Jews and 
Gentiles were to be placed on an equality. Others, more 
respectful, withdrew, simply saying, " We will hear thee again 

1 Too superstitious.— The meaning of the words thus translated would be better 
conveyed to us by the phrase, " More than others, ye reverence the deities." 
» Acts xvii. 22-31, 



182 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

of this matter." This was probably merely a polite expres- 
sion of indifference. Paul did not feel sufficiently encouraged 
to prolong bis labors among auditors so unpromising. In the 
synagogue, and in the streets, Paul had been preaching to the 
Athenians " Jesus and the resurrection." It was to this same 
theme, the, burden of all his teachings, that upon Mars' Hill 
he so skilfully drew the attention of his hearers. 

Paul did not encounter any tumult or violence in Athens. 
How long he remained there cannot now be known. As to 
the results of his labors, we are informed that Dionysius, a 
member of the court of Areopagus, and a woman by the name 
of Dainaris, with some others, became converts to Christianity. 

From Athens Paul proceeded to Corinth, the commercial 
metropolis of Greece, and a city renowned for its wealth, its 
luxury, and its wickedness. Corinth was about sixty miles 
from Athens, in a direction very nearly west. Two of the 
exiled Jews, Aquila and his wife Priscilla, whom a decree of 
the Emperor Claudius had expelled from Rome, had taken 
refuge in Corinth. They cordially received Paul, and he 
abode with them. They were tent-makers by occupation ; 
making tents, then in great demand, of cloth woven from 
goat's-hair. Paul, who was unwilling to be burdensome to 
any one, met his expenses by his daily or rather nightly toil 
at this trade, which he had learned in his early youth. After 
preaching the gospel all day, we can see him in the evening 
diligently aiding Aquila and Priscilla in their manual labor. 

Soon Silas and Timothy, coming from Thessalonica, joined 
Paul in Corinth. As he witnessed the great wickedness of 
the city, his spirit was stirred within him to an unusual de- 
gree. Earnestly he testified to the degenerate Jews that 
Jesus is the Christ. But the Jews would not receire Jesus 
of Nazareth as their Messiah. They reviled the preacher and 
his gospel. Luke writes, — 

" And when they opposed themselves, and blasphemed, he 
shook his raiment, and said unto them, Your blood be upon 
your own heads : I am clean : from henceforth I will go unto 
tli-3 Gentiles." 






3IISSI0NAH7 ADVENTURES. 183 

He thus abandoned the synagogue; and it seems that it was 
necessary for him to leave the residence of his Jewish hosts, 
and to take np his abode with a Gentile by the name of Justus. 
This man lived near the synagogue, and, though a Greek, had 
renounced idolatry, and was a worshipper of the true God. 
Paul'a labors among the Jews had not been entirely in vain : 
for "Crispus, the chief ruler of the synagogue, believed on the 
Lor J, with all his house ; " and Paul in person baptized him. 1 

Among the Gentiles Paul's success was very great, and 
converts were rapidly multiplied. The rage of the Jews was 
such, that it was feared that Paul would encounter personal 
violence; but the Lord appeared to Paul in the night in a 
vision, and said to him, — 

" Be not afraid, but speak, and hold not thy peace ; for I am 
with thee, and no man shall set on thee to hurt thee ; for I 
have much people in this city." 

For a year and six months Paul continued in Corinth, preach- 
ing the gospel. It was from that city that he wrote his two 
impressive and affectionate letters to the converts in Thessa- 
lonica. An easy, good-natured man, b} 7 the name of Gallio, was 
.at that time governor of the province of Achaia, which in- 
cluded the whole of Southern Greece. Probably the conversion 
and baptism of Crispus exasperated the Jews to the highest 
degree. They stirred up an insurrection in the streets ; seized 
Paul, and with clamor and tumult dragged him before the 
judgment-seat of Gallio. But the charges which they brought 
against Paul were so frivolous, that Gallio drove them from his 
presence, declaring that he would be no judge of such matters. 

The Greeks hated the Jews. And here, for the first time, 
we have the remarkable exhibition of the populace proceeding 
to acts of violence against the enemies of Paul. According to 
the narrative in the Acts of the Apostles, the Greek populace 
rushed upon Sosthenes, the ruler of the Jewish synagogue, and 
severely beat him. It was far more important to Gallio that 
he should be popular among the Greeks than among the Jews : 
he therefore, with characteristic indifference, left Sosthenes to 

» 1 Cor. i. 14. 



184 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

his fate. After this, the Jews no longer attempted to molest 
Paul. 

He remained in Corinth "yet a good while;" hut we have 
no record of the amount or success of his labors. He then 
ba le farewell to the numerous converts whom he had gathered 
in Corinth, and, accompanied by Aquila and Priscilla, embarked 
at Cenchrea, and, leaving the shores of Greece behind h':n, 
crossed the MgQscn Sea, a distance of about two hundred miles*, 
and landed at the renowned city of Ephesus, in Asia Minor. 
In the record of this event it is written, — 

"He then took leave of the brethren, and sailed thence into 
Syria, and with him Priscilla and Aquila ; having shorn his 
head in Cenchrea : for he had a vow." x 

The structure of the sentence does not determine whether it 
was Paul or Aquila who had a vow ; neither are we informed 
why the vow was taken. Paul apparently entered the syna- 
gogue at Ephesus but once, when he reasoned with the Jews, 
endeavoring to convince them that Jesus was the Messiah ; and, 
though entreated to tarry longer with them, he declined, saying, 
" I must by all means keep this feast 2 that cometh in Jerusa- 
lem ; but I will return again unto you." 

Sailing from Ephesus, leaving Aquila and Priscilla behind 
him, he landed at Caesarea in Syria, and immediately hastened 
up to Jerusalem to report to the church there his adventures 
in the long and momentous excursion he had made, — an 
excursion which occupied a little over two years. He then re- 
turned to Antioch. 

1 Acts xviii. 1.8. » Probably the Tentecost. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



THS CAPTIVE IN CHAINS. 



The Third Missionary Tour. — Paul at Typhosus. — The Great Tumult. — The 
Voyage to Greece. — Return to Asia Minor and t« Jerusalem. — His Reception 
at Jerusalem. —His Arrest, and the Riot. —Speech to the Mob. — Paul impris- 
oned.— Danger of Assassination. — Transferred to Csesarea. — His Defence 
before Festus and Agrippa. — The Appeal to Cajsar. — The Voyage to Rome. — 
The Shipwreck. — Continued Captivity 



E now enter upon Paul's third missionary jour- 
ney through the interior of Asia Minor. How 
long he remained in Antioeh before entering 
upon this tour, or what exact route he took 
through Phrygia and Galatia, we do not know. 
Timothy probably accompanied him, as men- 
tion is made of his name in connection with 
Paul's stay at Ephesus. All Uie record we have of this jour- 
ney through the heart of Asia Minor, in which Paul visited 
the various churches which he had established, is contained 
in the words, " He departed, and went over all the country 
of Galatia and Phrygia, strengthening all the disciples." 1 

Just before Paul's arrival at Ephesus, — which city he had 
promised to visit again, — a Jew came there, by the name of 
Apollos, a devout man, very eloquent, who was a disciple of 
John the Baptist ; he not having yet received the fuller reve- 
lation of life and immortality made by Jesus Christ. Aquila 
and Priscilla, listening to his bold and fervid addresses in the 
synagogue, took him, and explained to him more fully the 

1 Acta xviii. 23. 

185 




180 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

gospel of Jesus as it had "been expounded to them by Paul. 
Thus instructed in the " glad tidings/' Apollos went to Cor- 
inth with letters of recommendation to the brethren there, 
where "he mightily convinced the Jews, and that publicly, 
showing by the scriptures that Jesus was Christ." x 

While Apollos was preaching at Corinth, Paul, having 
traversed the mountainous districts of Asia Minor, came to 
Ephesus. There were but few in that great and wicked city 
who had any true conception of the religion of Jesus. There 
were several, who, under the preaching of Apollos, had be- 
come disciples of John, walking in the comparatively dim 
light which that prophet had revealed. Eagerly they received 
the fuller illumination which Paul brought to their minds. 
Twelve of these were baptized by Paul in the name of the 
Lord Jesus : then, upon his laying his hands upon them, 
they received the miraculous gifts of the Holy Ghost, " and 
spake with tongues, and prophesied." 

For throe months, Paul continued earnestly preaching in the 
synagogue "the things concerning the kingdom of God." Suc- 
cess did not attend his labors : on the contrary, many were 
hardened by them", "and believed not, but spake evil of that 
way." Pa^l, disheartened, withdrew entirely from the syna- 
gogue, and, taking the few disciples Avith him, established an 
independent church. 

A man named Tyrannus, a school-teacher, who was either a 
convert, or was favorably affected towards the new doctrine, 
opened his schoolroom for the preaching of Paul. In that 
room, and from house to house, the zealous and persevering 
apostle preached, for the space of two years, " repentance 
towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ." A 
large church was organized. Paul himself, and other disciples, 
made many excursions into the surrounding region, "so that 
all they which dwelt in Asia heard the word of the Lord 
Jesus, both Jews and Greeks." 2 Paul still continued to exer- 
cise miraculous powers, healing the sick, and casting out evil 
spirits. Some "vagabond Jews," witnessing the power which 
1 Acts xviii. 28. 3 Acts xix. 10. 



THE CAPTIVE IN CHAINS. 187 

the name of Jesus exerted, undertook to exorcise in that 
sacred name ; but the demoniac, exclaiming, " Jesus I know, 
and Paul I know, but who are ye ? leaped on them, and over- 
came them, and prevailed against them, so that they fled out 
of that house naked and wounded." This so alarmed the 
professional exorcists, that many of them relinquished their 
calling, and burned their books of sorcery, though they were 
valued at about eight thousand dollars. ".So mightily," adds 
Luke, " grew the word of the Lord, and prevailed." 

Paul now decided to visit the churches in Macedonia and 
Achaia, and then to return to Jerusalem, saying, " After that, 
I must see Pome also." Timothy, and another disciple by the 
name of Erastus, were sent before him to announce his coming 
to the churches in Macedonia and Achaia. 

Just before Paul left Ephesus, a very violent and not un- 
natural tumult arose in the city. Ephesus was renowned 
throughout the world for the worship of the goddess Diana. 
The temple, erected at the head of the harbor for the idola- 
trous worship of this goddess, was deemed, in its magnifi- 
cence and dazzling beaut}", one of the wonders of the world. 
It was a common saying, u The sun in its course sees nothing 
more magnificent than Diana's temple." This gorgeous mar- 
ble shrine of idolatry was 425 feet long, 220 broad, and was 
embellished by 127 columns, each GO feet high. The Greek 
ladies throughout all Achaia and Asia lavished their treas- 
ures in almost incrusting the temple with precious stones. 
It was one of the principal sources of revenue to the city, and 
of employment for its workmen, to construct silver statues of 
the goddess, which were sold in immense numbers throughout 
all the pagan world. But the preaching of Paul was bring- 
ing idolatry into disrepute, and destroying the trade in idols. 

There was a large manufacturer of these silver shrines in 
the city, by the name of Demetrius. He called his numerous 
workmen together, and thus addressed them : — 

"Sirs, ye know that by this craft we have our wealth. 
Moreover, ye see and hear, that not alone at Ephesus, but 
almost throughout all Asia, this Paul hath persuaded and 



183 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

turned away much people, saying that they be no gods which 
are made with hands : so that not only this our craft U in 
danger to he set at nought, hut also that the temple of the 
great goddess Diana should he despised, and her magnificence 
should be destroyed, whom all Asia and the world worship- 
ped." 1 

These inflammatory words roused the workmen: they were 
repeated through all the shops in the city. A gathering mob 
began to surge through the streets with clamor and threaten- 
ings. The one continuous cry of the mob was, "Great is 
Diana of the Ephesians ! " The infuriated populace coining 
across two of Paul's companions and friends, Gaius and Aris- 
tarchus, seized them, and dragged them into the theatre, an 
immense enclosure, without a roof, where tiers of stone seats 
rose one above another, affording room for an immense as- 
sembly. 

As soon as the news reached Paul, the intrepid man wished 
immediately to rush into the theatre, in the endeavor to 
rescue his friends ; but even the officers of the city entreated 
him not thus to peril his life. With difficulty they dissuaded 
him froni the rash and hopeless movement. 

The tumult in the theatre was fearful. " Some cried one 
thing, and some another : for the assembly was confused ; and 
the more part knew not wherefore they were come together." 
At length the mayor of the city, an officer next in dignity and 
authority to the governor, entered the city, and endeavored tc 
allay the tumult. Having succeeded in obtaining silence, he 
addressed the mob as follows : — 

"Ye men of Ephesus, what man is there that knoweth not 
that the city of the "Ephesians is a worshipper of the great 
goddess Diana, and of the image which fell down from 
Jupiter? 2 Seeing, then, that these things cannot be spoken 
against, ye ought to be quiet, and to do nothing rashly. Foi 
ye have brought hither these men, who are neither robbers of 
churches, nor yet blasphemers of your goddess. Wherefore 

» Acts xix. 25-27. 

3 The original image of Diana was supposed to be a gift from heaven. 



THE CAPTIVE nt CBAtrfS. 189 

if Demetrius, and the craftsmen which are with him, have a 
matter against any man, the law is open, and there are depu- 
ties : let them implead one another. But, if ye inquire any 
thing concerning other matters, 1 it shall be determined in 
a lawful assembly. For we are in danger to be called in 
question for this day's uproar, there being no cause whereby 
we may give an account of this concourse." 2 

Soon after this Paul assembled the disciples, and took leave 
of them, in preparation for his journey into Greece. From 
Ephesus he had written his First Epistle to the Corinthians ; 
and he was greatly distressed by some disorders which had 
crept into the church there. We have no record of the 
events which occurred during this journey. Sailing across 
the iEgean Sea, he landed first in Macedonia. " And when 
he had gone over those parts, and given them much exhorta- 
tion, he came into Greece, and there abode three months." 
He tarried some time in Philippi, waiting the arrival of Titus : 
upon his arrival, he wrote his Second Epistle to the Corinthians. 

Accompanied by Titus, Paul went to Corinth, where he 
spent some time endeavoring to correct the abuses to which 
we have referred. While at Corinth, he wrote his Epistle to 
the Komans, — unquestionably the most important document 
which ever proceeded from a human mind. 

But the malignant Jews in those regions still thirsted for 
his blood. As they lay in wait for him to kill him as he 
should embark for Syria, he changed his route, and returned 
through Macedonia to Philippi, where he took ship for Troas, 
on the Asiatic coast; which port he reached after a sail of five 
days. There he remained a week. The first day of the week, 
as commemorating the resurrection of Jesus, had become, 
instead of the seventh, the customary day for the assembling 
of Christians. 3 

Paul, as he was the next day to leave the brethren at 
Troas, probably never in this world to meet them again, con- 

1 Matters beyond the jurisdiction of the courts. 

' Acts xix. 35-40. 

» See John xx. 26, and 1 Cor. xvi. 2. 



100 msTonr of cnntsTiANtTt. 

tinued the parting service until midnight. A young man 
named Eutychus, overcome by sleep, fell from a third-story 
window to the ground, and was taken up dead. Paul restored 
him to life. He then continued the social and religious ser- 
vices until the dawning of the day. The ship in which he 
was to embark sailed first for Assos, a small seaport about 
nine miles from Troas by land, and more than twice that 
distance by water. 

Paul went on foot to Assos. There he took ship, and, 
sailing by Chios, Mitylene, and Samos, passed by Ephesus, and 
landed at Miletus, an important commercial city, about thirty 
miles beyond Ephesus. He sent for the elders of the church 
at Ephesus, and there took leave of them in the following 
affecting address : — 

" Ye know, from the first day that I came into Asia, after 
what manner I have been with you at all seasons, serving the 
Lord with all humility of mind, and with many tears, and 
temptations which befell me by the lying-in-wait of the Jews ; 
and how I kept back nothing that was profitable unto you, but 
have showed you, and have taught you publicly, and from house 
to house, testifying both to the Jews, and also to the Greeks, 
repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus 
Christ. 

"And now, behold, I go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem, 
not knowing the things that shall befall me there ; save that 
the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, saying that bonds 
and afflictions abide me. But none cf these things move me, 
neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might 
finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have 
received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace 
of God. 

" And now, behold, I know that ye all, among whom I have 
gone preaching the kingdom of God, shall see my face no more. 
Wherefore I take you to record this day, that I am pure from 
the blood of all men. Por I have not shunned to declare 
unto you all the counsel of God. Take heed, therefore, unto 
yourselves, and to all the flock over the which the Holy Ghost 



THE CAPTIVE IN CHAINS. 191 

hath made you overseers, to feed the church of God, which lie 
hath purchased with his own blood. For I know this, that after 
my departing shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not 
sparing the flock. Also of your own selves shall men arise, 
speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them. 
Th(j»2fore watch, and remember, that, by the space of three 
years, I ceased not to warn every one night and day with 
tears. 

"And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and to the 
word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give 
you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified. I 
have coveted no man's silver or gold or apparel. Yea, ye 
yourselves know that these hands have ministered unto my 
necessities, and to them that were with me. I have showed 
you all things, how that so laboring ye ought to support the 
weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he 
said, It is more blessed to give than to receive." 

Luke adds, "And, when lie had thus spoken, he kneeled 
down, and prayed with them all. And they all wept sore, and 
fell on Paul's neck, and kissed him; sorrowing most of all for 
the words which he spake, that they should see his face no 
more. And they accompanied him unto the ship." l 

Sailing by the Islands of Coos and Rhodes, without stop- 
ping, they landed at Patara, a small seaport in the province 
of Lycia, on the southern coast of Asia Minor. Here Paul 
took another vessel, and leaving the island on the left, after 
a voyage of about three hundred and forty miles, landed at 
Tyre, in Syria. There was a church in Tyre; and Paul re- 
mained with the Christians there a week while the ship was 
discharging its cargo. The brethren, conscious of the danger 
he would encounter in Jerusalem, urged him not to go there; 
but Paul was fixed in his purpose. When the time came for 
the ship to sail again, the brethren, with their wives and chil- 
dren, accompanied him to the shore. There, upon the sandy 
beach, the}' knelt down, and commended the heroic and be- 
loved apostle to the protection of God. Prom Tyre the ship 

i Acts xx. 18-38. 



192 HISTORY OF CIWISTIANITr. 

sailed along the coast of Syria to Ptolemais, the celebrated 
Jean- d'Acre of modern history. The distance between the 
two places was about thirty miles. Here Paul was again 
refreshed by the society of the disciples whom he found there, 
and with whom he remained but one day. 

Paul left the ship at Ptolemais, and continuing the journey 
by land, a distance of thirty or forty miles, reached Csesarea. 
Philip the evangelist — one of the seven deacons chosen by the 
church in Jerusalem, to whom we have been before introduced 
as teaching and baptizing the eunuch on the road by Gaza, 
towards Egypt — resided in Csesarea. His family consisted 
of four daughters, who were very earnest Christians, and who 
were endowed with the prophetic spirit. Paul remained for 
several days the guest of that Christian family. 

"While residing there, a certain prophet, by the name of 
Agabus, — the same who had previously predicted "that there 
should be a great dearth throughout all the world," l — came 
to Caesarea. Agabus, using the imagery of action so common 
with the prophets, took Paul's girdle, bound it around his own 
hands and feet, and said, — 

" Thus saith the Holy Ghost : So shall the Jews at Jeru- 
salem bind the man to whom this girdle belongs, and they 
shall deliver him into the hands of the Gentiles." 2 

The Christian friends of Paul at Csesarea, when they heard 
this prophetic announcement, entreated him with the most 
earnest supplication, and even with tears, not to go up to Jeru- 
salem, and thus place himself at the mercy of these cruel and 
inveterate foes. But Paul replied, — 

"What mean ye to weep and to break mine heart? for I 
am ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem 
for the name of the Lord Jesus." 

Luke, who still accompanied Paul, adds, "And, when he 
would not be persuaded, we ceased, saying, The will of the 
Lord be done." 

Paul, with the companions who had attended him from 
Macedonia, and accompanied by several Christians from Caesa- 

» Acts xi. 28. * Acts xxi. 11. 



fkE CAPTIVE m CHAINS. 193 

tea, went up to Jerusalem, and took up his residence at the 
house of Mnason, one of the early converts to Christianity. 

Thus we have accompanied Paul on his last recorded jour- 
ney to Jerusalem. It was a journey full of incident; and it 
is related more minutely than any other portion of his travels. 
We know all the places by which he passed, or at which he 
staid ; and we are able to connect them all with familiar 
recollections of history. We know, too, all the aspects of the 
scenery, lie sailed along those coasts of Western Asia, and 
among those famous islands, the beauty of which is proverbial. 
The very time of the year is known to us : it was when the 
advancing season was clothing every low shore and the edge 
of every broken cliff* with a beautiful and refreshing verdure j 
when the winter storms had ceased to be dangerous, and the 
small vessels could ply safely in shade and sunshine between 
the neighboring ports. Even the state of the weather and 
the direction of the wind are known. 

We can point to the places on the map where the vessel 
anchored for the night, and trace across the chart the track 
that was followed when the moon was full. Yet more than 
this : we are made fully aware of the state of the apostle's 
mind, and of the burdened feeling under which this journey 
was accomplished. The expression of this feeling strikes us 
the more from its contrast with all the outward circumstances 
of the voyage. He sailed in the finest season, by the bright- 
est coasts, and in the fairest weather ; and yet his mind was 
occupied with forebodings of evil from first to last, so that 
a peculiar shade of sadness is thrown over the whole narra- 
tion. 1 

Paul, like his divine Master, was " a man of sorrows, and 
acquainted with grief." The sins and sufferings of humanity 
oppressed his soul. Throughout all his epistles, we see in- 
dications of the pensive spirit with which he regarded -jhe 
sublime and awful tragedy of time and sin. 

Upon the arrival of the apostle in Jerusalem, he was very 
cordially received by the brethren. Knowing that he had 

1 Life, 1 imes, and Travels of St. Paul, Conybearc and Uowjoii, vol. ii. p.2C5. - 
12 



194 BISTORT OP CttRlSTlAmTT. - 

many enemies even among the Christians there, who demanded 
that the Gentile converts should be brought into subjection to 
all the rites of Judaism, his dejected spirit must have been 
much cheered by this affectionate greeting. The disomies 
in Jerusalem, consisting of converted Jews and converted 
Gentiles, now counted their numbers by thousands. They 
were necessarily divided into many local churches. There 
was an immediate gathering of the pastors of these churches 
to hear Paul's report of the success of his extended missionary 
tour. James, who had presided at the general council held 
in Jerusalem several years before, seems also to have presided 
at this meeting. Paul " declared particularly what things 
God had wrought among the Gentiles by his ministry." The 
majority were very favorably impressed by his address, and 
" glorified the Lord." They, however, said to him, — 

" Thou seest, brother, how many thousands of Jews there 
are which believe ; and they are aL zealous of the law : and 
they are informed of thee, that thou teachest all the Jews 
which are among the Gentiles to forsake Moser sa} T ing that 
they ought not to circumcise their children, neither to walk 
after the customs." 

They therefore urged, that as it was impossible but that 
his arrival should be, known, and that it would call the Chris-" 
tians together to hear from him, he should do something to 
refute these calumnies, and disarm hostility. They therefore 
suggested that he should take charge of four Jewish Christians 
who were under a vow, accompany them to the temple, and 
pay for them the necessary charges. This would prove Mi at 
Paul, so far as the Jews were concerned, still respected the 
law of Hoses. As to the Gentile converts, they reiterated the 
advice given by the council. Paul, who had laid it down 
as his principle, that to the Jew he would become a Jew, and 
to the Gentile a Gentile, that he might win all to Christ, 
accepted this suggestion. He was ready to accept or reject 
mere outward observances as expediency might dictate. In his 
view, circumcision was nothing, and uncircumcision nothing, 
but faith that worketh by love. 



TIIE CAPTIVE IX CHAINS. 10£ 

The next day was the great feast of Pentecost. Jerusalem 
was crowded with Jews from all parts of Syria, and even from 
remoter lands. Those who had already persecuted Paul on his 
missionary tour were there, ready to renew their violence. 
When Paul entered the temple with the men who had taken 
the vow, they sprang upon him, seized him, and cried out, — 

" Men of Israel, help ! This is the man that teacheth all 
men everywhere against the people, and the law, and this 
place ; and, further, brought Greeks also into the temple, 
and hath polluted this holy place." 1 

A terrible mob was at once excited among the fanatic Jews. 
They seized Paul, dragged him out of the temple, and were 
about to kill him in the streets, when the chief captain in 
command of the Roman garrison heard of the uproar. Pla- 
cing himself at the head of a band of soldiers, he assailed the 
mob, rescued Paul, chained him by each wrist to a soldier, 
and then inquired what he had done that they were thus 
beating him. The tumult and uproar were such, " some cry- 
ing one thing, and some another," that no definite charge could 
be heard. 

The captain, Claudius Lysias, supposing Paul to be a re- 
nowned Egyptian rebel and a guilty disturber of the peace, 
ordered his prisoner to be led to the barracks within the for- 
tress. The crowd followed, shouting, "Away with him !" The 
pressure of the throng was so great, that, when they reached 
the great staircase leading up into the castled fortress, Paul 
was borne by the soldiers up the steps. When the prisoner 
reached the top of the stairs, whence he had a clear view of 
the angry, surging mob below, he turned to Lysias, and, ad- 
dressing him in Greek, inquired, " May I speak unto thee ? " 
Lysias was astonished to hear him speak in Greek, and 
said, — 

"Art thou not that Egyptian which before these days 
madest an uproar, and leddest out into the wilderness four 
thousand men that were murderers ? " 

Paul replied, " I am a man which am a Jew of Tarsus, a 

i Acts xxi. 28. 



196 ttlSTOttr OF CimiSTlANIT?. 

city in Cilicia, a citizen of no mean city, and, I beseech thee, 
suffer me to speak unto the people." 

Obtaining permission, lie waved his hand to obtain silence, 
and then, addressing the Jewish multitude in the Hebrew lan- 
guage, gave them quite a minute account of his past history, 
his persecution of the Christians, and his miraculous conver- 
sion to that faith which he once endeavored to destroy. Hut, 
when lie announced that the Lord Jesus had said to him, 
"Depart, for I will send thee far hence unto the Gentiles" 
the rage of the fanatic Jews was roused to the highest pitch. 
With united voice they cried out, — 

" Away with such a fellow from the earth ! it is not fit that 
he should live." 

As they were shouting and gesticulating with the most vio- 
lent expressions of ferocit}-, Lysias ordered him to be led into 
the fortress, and, in accordance with the infamous practice 
of the times, to be examined by scourging, to see what confes- 
sion bodily agony would thus extort from him. As they were 
binding him to the whipping-post, Paul said to the centurion 
who was superintending the operation, — 

"Is it lawful for you to scourge a man that is a Roman, and 
uncondemned ? " 

The remark was immediately reported to Lysias. He, upon 
questioning Paul, ordered him to be unbound ; and the heroic 
prisoner passed the night in one of the cells of the fortress. 
The next day, Lysias summoned a council of the chief priests, 
and brought Paul before them, that he might learn of him of 
what crimes he was accused. He was put upon his defence 
without any charge being brought against him. Ananias, the 
high priest, a brutal wretch, presided. As Paul, commencing 
his defence, modestly said, "Men and brethren, I have lived in 
all good conscience before God until this day," the infamous 
judge was so enraged, that he ordered those standii g near to 
smite him on the mouth. 

Saint as Paul was, this brutal outrage roused his indigna- 
tion ; and he exclaimed, " God shall smite thee, thou whited 
wall ; for sittest thou to judge me after the law, and com- 
mandest me to be smitten contrary to the law ? " 



THE CAPTIVE IN CIIAINS. 197 

Some one who stood by said, " E-evilest thou the high 
priest ? » 

Paul, at once restored to self-possession, replied, " I wist not, 
brethren, .that he- was the high priest; for it is written, Thou 
shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy people." 

The Jews were at that time divided into two highly antago- 
nistic parties, — the Pharisees and the Sadducees. The Sad- 
ducees did not believe in any future state, or in any spiritual 
existence. They said, " There is no resurrection, neither angel 
nor spirit." The Pharisees, on the contrary, believed fully in 
the resurrection of the dead, and in a future life. Paul took 
advantage of this division of sentiment among his judges, 
and, knowing that one of the sources of the bitter hostility 
excited against him was that he taught that Jesus of Naza- 
reth had risen from the grave, continued his defence by say- 
ing,— 

" Men and brethren, I am a Pharisee, the son of a Pharisee : 
of the hope and resurrection of the dead I am called in 
question." 

This caused an immediate division between the two parties, 
and arrayed the Pharisees on the side of Paul. They said, 
"We find no evil in this man; but, if a spirit or an angel 
hath spoken to him, let us not fight against God." The dis- 
sension between these two rival sects became so intense, that 
they almost proceeded to blows. " The chief captain, fearing 
lest Paul should have been pulled in pieces of them, com- 
manded the soldiers to go down and take him by force from 
among them, and bring him into the castle." 

In the night, the Lord Jesus appeared to his devoted apos- 
tle, and said to him, "Be of good cheer, Paul; for as thou 
hast testified of me in Jerusalem, so must thou bear witness 
also at Pome." 

Certain of the Jews, finding it difficult to crush Paul by 
processes of law, entered into a conspiracy, binding them- 
selves by an oath not to eat nor drink till they had killed him. 
There were forty of these conspirators ; and they were so as- 
sured of the sympathy of the Jewish rulers in this endeavor, 



198 HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN ITY. 

that they went to them, informed them of their resolve, and 
sought their co-operation. The plan which they proposed to 
the chief priests and elders was, that they should officially ap- 
ply to Claudius Lysias that Paul might be once more brought 
before the Jewish court for further examination. As the pris- 
oner was being conducted from the fortress to the court, the 
assassins, lying in wait, would fall upon him, and kill him. 

A nephew of Paul, the son of his sister, learned of this con 
epiracy, and, obtaining access to the fortress, informed Paul 
of his peril. Paul sent the young man by one of the centu- 
rions to communicate the intelligence to Ly.sias. Thus in- 
formed, Lysias secretly at night assembled a band of four 
hundred Eoman soldiers and spearmen and seventy cavalry 
to escort Paul to Caesarea, and place him under the control of 
Felix, the governor of Judaea, who resided in that city. It 
was a journey of seventy-five miles, and would have to be 
taken rapidly ; and therefore more than one horse was pro- 
vided for Paul. 

The escort started with its prisoner at nine o'clock at night, 
and took with them the following letter to the governor: — 

" Claudius Lysias unto the most excellent governor Felix 
sendeth greeting. This man wa3 taken of the Jews, and 
should have been killed of them ; then came I with an 
army and rescued him, having understood that he was a 
Roman. And, when I would have known the cause wherefore 
they accused him, I brought him forth into their council ; 
wliom I perceived to be accused of questions of their law, but 
to have nothing laid to his charge worthy of death or of 
bonds. And, when it was told me how that the Jews laid 
wait for the man, I sent straightway to thee, and gave com- 
mandment to his accusers also to say before thee what they 
had against him. Farewell." 

Marching rapidly with their prisoner, the escort proceeded 
that night thirty-eight miles, as far as Antipatris. Prom this 
point the foot-soldiers returned to Jerusalem, as their presence 
was no longer needed for the protection of Paul. The horse 
Die a accompanied Paul the remainder of the way to Caesarea, 



THE CAPTIVE IN CHAINS. 199 

and, proceeding directly to the governor, surrendered to him 
their prisoner. Felix ordered Paul to be held in custody in 
Herod's palace, which was the official residence of the gov- 
ernor, until his accusers should come from Jerusalem. 

After an interval of five days, Ananias the high priest, with 
the elders, and a distinguished orator named TertuUus, came 
to Caesarea to prefer their charges against Paul in the presence 
of the governor. TertuUus brought forward their accusations 
in the following address to Felix : — 

" Seeing that by thee we enjoy great quietness, and that 
very worthy deeds are done unto this nation by thy provi- 
dence, we accept it always, and in all places, most noble Felix, 
with all thankfulness. Notwithstanding, that I be not further 
tedious unto thee, I pray thee that thou wouldest hear us of 
iLy clemency a few words : for we have found this man a 
pestilent fellow, and a mover of sedition among all the Jews 
throughout the world, and a ringleader of the sect of the 
Nazarenes ; l who also hath gone about to profane the temple ; 
whom we took, and Avould have judged according to our law. 
But the chief captain, Lysias, came upon us, and with great 
violence took him away out of our hands, commanding his 
accusers to come unto thee ; by examining of whom thyself 
mayest take knowledge of all these things whereof we accuse 
him." 2 

Paul was then called upon for his defence against these 
frivolous charges. It was as follows : ," Forasmuch as I know 
thai thou hast been of many yeavs a judge unto this nation, I 
do the more cheerfully answer for myself ; because that thou 
mayest understand that there are yet but twelve days since I 
went up to Jerusalem for to worship. And they neither found 
me in the temple disputing with any man, neither raising up 
the people, neither in the synagogues, nor in the city ; neither 
can they prove the things whereof they now accuse me. 

"But this I confess unto thee, that after the way which 
they call heresy, so worship I the God of my fathers, believ- 

1 A name of reproach which the Jews gave the Christians. 
* Acts xxiv. 2-8. 



200 HISTORY OF CTIIIISTIANITT. 

ing all things which are written in the law and in the prophets ; 
and have hope toward God (which they themselves also allow) 
that there shall he a resurrection of the dead, both of the just 
and unjust. 

"And herein do I exercise myself, to have always a con- 
science void of offence toward God and toward men. Now, 
after many years, I came to bring alms to my nation, and 
offerings. Whereupon certain Jews from Asia found me puri- 
fied in the temple, neither with multitude nor with tumult. 
Who ought to have been here before thee, and object, if they 
had aught against me ; or else let these same here say if 
they have found any evil-doing in me while I stood before the 
council, except it be for this one voice, that I cried, standing 
among them, Touching the resurrection of the dead I am 
called in question by you this day." 

Felix had been governor of Judaea for six years. It was 
now nearly thirty years since the death of Christ. There were 
numerous bodies of Christians in churches scattered all over 
Palestine. He had enjoyed ample opportunities of becom- 
ing acquainted with the sentiments of the Christians, was a 
thoughtful man, and was by no means predisposed to treat 
Paul with severity. He therefore placed Paul under the cus- 
tody of a centurion, who was to accompany him wherever lie 
went, but to allow him perfect liberty and free access to his 
friends. 

It would seem that Drusilla, the wife of Felix, had some 
curiosity to see Paul ; for, after a few days, Felix and Dru- 
silla (who was a Jewess) sent for Paul to come to the palace, 
and in private heard him " concerning the faith in Christ." 
Luke records, — 

"And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, aud 
judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way 
for this time : when I have a convenient season, I will call for 
thee." 

"'Pie had hoped also," Luke adds, "that money should 
have been given him of Paul, that he might loose him : where- 
fore lie sent for him the oftener, and communed with him." x 

i Acts xxiv. 26. 



THE CAPTIVE IN CHAINS. 201 

For two years, Paul was held a prisoner in Csesarea. How 
wonderful that God should, at such a time, have allowed such 
a man so long to he kept in comparative silence ! He was 
douhtless active in the service of his Saviour in Csesarea every 
hour of every day ; hut we have no record of the results of 
those lahors. At length Felix was summoned to Rome, and 
was supplanted in the office of governor hy Festus. The mal- 
ice of the Jewish rulers towards Paul continued ui abated; 
"and Felix, willing to show the Jews a pleasure, left Paul 
bound." This was in the year of our Lord 60. 

Immediately upon the arrival of the new governor at Csesa- 
rea, the sleepless hatred of the J'ews made a fresh attempt 
upon the life of Paul. Three days after Festus landed at 
Csesarea, he went up to Jerusalem, the political metropolis 
of his province. Immediately the high priest, accompanied 
by several of the most prominent of the Jews, appeared be- 
fore Festus, and begged that Paul might be sent back from 
Csesarea to Jerusalem for trial. They had in the mean time 
prepared a band of assassins to fall upon Paul by the way, 
and put him to death. 

Festus wisely declined placing an uncondemned person thus 
in the hands of his enemies, but stated, that, as he was about 
to return to Csesarea, they could send his accusers there with 
whatever charges they had to prefer against him. After re- 
maining in Jerusalem about ten days, Festus returned to 
Csesarea, summoned a court of assistant judges, took his seat 
upon the judicial tribunal, and ordered Paul to be brought 
before him. The Jews who came down from Jerusalem 
stood round about, and laid many and grievous complaints 
against Paul, which they could not prove. It would seem, 
from the summary which is given of Paul's repty, that he 
was charged with heresy, sacrilege, and treason, — the same 
charges which had before been brought against him by Ter- 
tullus. "Neither against the Jews," Paul answered, "neither 
against the temple, nor yet against Csesar, have I offended any 
thing at all." 

Festus was anxious to conciliate the favor of the Jews, an:l 



202 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

suggested that Paul should go up to Jerusalem, there to be 
tried before a tribunal over which he himself would preside. 
Paul knew that he could expect no justice there, and that he 
was in danger of being assassinated by the way. lie was a 
Roman citizen, and, as such, had the privilege of appealing 
to Caesar at Rome. This was his last resort. He therefore 
said, — 

"I stand at Cesar's judgment-seat, where I ought to be 
judged. To the Jews have I done no wrong, as thou very 
well L nowest. For if I be an offender, or have committed any 
thing worthy of death, I refuse not to die; but, if there be 
none of these tilings whereof these accuse me, no man may 
deliver me unto them. I appeal unto Caesar." l 

Even Festus had no power to ignore this appeal. By thoso 
potent words, " I appeal unto Caesar," Paul had transferred his 
cause from the provincial governor to the emperor at Home. 
Nothing remained for Festus but to send Paul to Rome, with 
all the documents bearing upon the trial, and with his own 
official report. Festus, however, was still in perplexity. The 
charges brought against Paul were so extremely frivolous, that 
ho knew not what statement to make. He was ashamed to 
send a prisoner to Home with such trivial accusations ; and it 
seemed to him "unreasonable to send a prisoner, and not 
withal to signify the crimes laid against him." 

Festus was governor of the small province of Judaea. Agrip- 
pa was king of the whole of Syria, of which Judaea was but 
one of the provinces; and he also included within his realms 
other dominions, whose limits cannot now be very accurately 
defined. It so happened, that, at this time, Agrippa, with his 
sister Bernice. paid a complimentary visit to the new governor 
of Judaea at Caesarea, and remained with Festus several days. 
He was a Jew, and was thoroughly acquainted with Jewish 
iaw. Ftstus, who was much embarrassed by the position in 
which he found himself placed in reference to Paul, consulted 
Agrippa concerning the affair. The account which he gave 
of the case to Agrippa is quite curious. 
Acts xxv. 10, 11, 



THE CAPTIVE IN CHAINS. 203 

u There is a certain man," said he, " left in bonds by Felix ; 
about whom, when I was at Jerusalem, the chief priests and 
the elders of the Jews informed me, desiring to have judg- 
ment against him. To whom I answered, It is not the man- 
ner of the Romans to deliver any man to die before that he 
which is accused have the accusers face to face, and have 
license to answer for himself concerning the crime laid against 
him. Therefore, when they, were come hither, without any 
delay on the morrow I sat on the judgment-seat, and com- 
manded the man to be brought forth ; against whom, when 
the accusers stood up. they brought none accusation of such 
things as I supposed, but had certain questions against him 
of their own superstition, and of one Jesus, which was dead, 
whom Paul affirmed to be alive. And, because I doubted of 
such manner of questions, I asked him whether he would go 
to Jerusalem, and there be judged of these matters ; but, 
when Paul had appealed to be reserved unto the hearing of 
Augustus, I commanded him to be kept till I might send him 
to Caesar." 1 

The curiosity of Agrippa was excited, and he requested that 
Paul might be brought before him. Accordingly, the next 
day, the king and his sister, with great pomp, entered the 
audience-chamber. The king took his seat in the judicial 
chair, and was attended by a brilliant suite of military offi- 
cers, and of the most distinguished men of Caesarea. Before 
this august assemblage Paul was led. In the following cere- 
monious speech, Pestus described the circumstances under 
which the prisoner had been left in his charge : — 

" King Agrippa, and all men which are here present with us, 
ye see this man, about whom all the multitude of the Jews have 
dealt with me, both at Jerusalem and also here, crying that he 
ought not to live any longer. But when I found that he had 
committed nothing worthy of death, and that he himself hath 
appealed to Augustus, I have determined to send him. Of 
whom I have no certain thing to write unto my lord. Where- 

1 Acts xxv. 14-21. Augustus and Caesar were the titles adopted by the Roman 
emperors. 



204 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY, 

fore I have brought liira forth before yon, and specially before 
thee, King Agrippa ! that, after examination had, I might 
have somewhat to write ; for it seemeth to me unreasonable 
to send a prisoner, and not withal to signify the crimes laid 
against him." 1 

Agrippa then condescendingly said to the prisoner that he 
was permitted to speak for himself. Paul opened his defence 
with the following words : — 

"I think myself happy, King Agrippa, because I shall 
answer for myself this day before thee touching all the things 
whereof I am accused of the Jews ; especially because I know 
thee to be expert in all customs and questions which are among 
the Jews : wherefore I beseech thee to hear me patientty." 

He then briefly recounted his early history, narrating in 
full the circum stances which attended his conversion to the 
religion of Jesus. After speaking of the vision which ap- 
peared to him on the road to Damascus, before whose brilliancy 
all had fallen to the earth, he said, — 

" I heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the He- 
brew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? it is hard 
for thee to kick against the pricks. And I said, Who art 
thou, Lord ? And he said, I am Jesus whom thou persecutest. 
But rise, and stand upon thy feet ; for I have appeared unto 
thee for this purpose, — to make thee a minister and a witness 
both of these things which thou hast seen, and of those things 
in the which I will appear unto thee ; delivering thee from the 
people and from the Gentiles, unto whom now I send thee, to 
open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and 
from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive for- 
giveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sancti- 
fied hy faith that is ir. me. 

" Whereupon, K.ng Agrippa!" continued Paul, "I was 
not disobedient unto the heavenly vision ; but showed first 
unto them of Damascus and at Jerusalem, and throughout all 
the coasts of Judaea, and then to the Gentiles, that they should 
repent and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance. 

1 Acts xxv. 24-27. 



TUB CAPTIVE ffl CHAWS, 205 

"For these causes the Jews caught me in the temple, and 
went about to kill me. Having, therefore, obtained help of 
God, I continue unto this day, witnessing both to small and 
great, saying none other things than those which the prophets 
and Moses did say should come, — that Christ should suCer, 
and that he should be the first that should rise from (he 
dead, and should show light unto the people and to tie 
Gentiles." 

As Paul thus alluded to the resurrection of the dead, ho 
was interrupted in his discourse by Fcstus. the unbelieving 
K/Onian, exclaiming with a loud voice, — 

" Paul, thou art beside thyself : much learning doth make 
thee mad." 

Paul turned to the governor, and said courteously, " I am 
not mad, most noble Foetus, but speak forth the words of 
truth and soberness. For the king knoweth of these things, 
before whom also I speak freel/ , for I am persuaded that 
none of these things are hidden from him." 

Then, addressing the king himself, who, as we have said, 
was a Jew, he added, "King Agrippa, believest thou the 
prophets ? I know that thou believest." 

The arguments of Paul had been so rational and irresisti- 
ble, that Agrippa seems to have been intellectually convinced 
by them ; for he thoughtfully replied, " Almost thou persuadest 
me to be a Christian." 

Paul, whose heart ever glowed with Christian love for all 
his fellow-men, answered, " I would to God that not only 
thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost and 
altogether such as I am, except these bonds ! " 

This terminated the interview. Agrippa, in conferring with 
his council, found them unanimously of the opinion that Paul 
had done nothing worthy of death or of bonds. He therefore 
said to Festus, " This man might have been set at liberty 
if he had not appealed unto Coesar." But it was now too late. 
Paul had made his appeal; and nothing remained but to 
send him, by the first opportunity, to Rome. There was a 
ship in port from Adramyttium which was engaged in the 



206 HISTORY OF CIiniSTIAXtTr. 

coast! ng-tradc, and which was to touch at various ports in 
Asia Minor. 

Paul, with two companions, — Luke, and Aristarchus from 
Thessalonica, — was embarked on board this ship*. There wero 
other prisoners in the ship, and they were under charge of 
a guard of soldiers, with Julius, their commanding-officer. 
The day after sailing, they touched at Sidon, sixty-seven miles 
north from Caesarea. Julius treated his prisoner very cour- 
teously ; and, as there was a church in this place, he was 
allowed to go ashore "unto- his friends to refresh himself." 
Leaving Sidon, they sailed across what is called the Sea of 
Cilicia, leaving the Island of Cyprus on their left, being driven 
to this circuitous route by contrary winds, till they reached 
the city of Myra, a large seaport in the province of Lycia. 

At Myra they found a ship from Alexandria in Egypt 
bound for Italy. The prisoners were placed on board this 
ship, which must have been one o^ considerable size, as it 
conveyed, with crew and passengers, two hundred and seventy- 
six souls. Calms and head-winds delayed their passage, so 
that it was " many days " before they reached the Island of 
Cnidus, which was but a hundred and thirty miles from 
Myra. The wind and the current still opposing them, they, 
finding themselves unable to sail directly across the iEgean 
Sea, ran down to the southward ; and having doubled Cape 
Salmone, the most easterly cape of the Island of Crete, they 
sailed along the southern coast of that island, sheltered from 
the north winds, a distance of about a hundred and fifty 
miles, until they came to a celebrated harbor, or roadstead, 
called the Fair Havens, There was no settlement here upon 
the shore ; but the city of Lasea was situated a few miles in- 
land. Winter had now come ; and fierce storms swept the 
Mediterranean, rendeiing navigation quite perilous. Upon 
leaving Myra, they had hoped to reach Italy before this dan- 
gerous season should arrive ; but the untoward weather had 
detained them, and there were still many weary leagues of a 
tempestuous sea to be passed over before they could cast anchor 
in the Tiber. 



TEE CAPTIVE IN CHAINS. 207 

The question was anxiously deliberated, whether they should 
still brave the peril of the seas. Paul, probably speaking, not 
by inspiration, but from his own natural intelligence and cau- 
tion, warned them, that, if they continued their voyage, not 
only would the safety of the ship be imperilled, but also the 
lives of all on board ; but as the present anchorage was in- 
commodious to winter in, and there was no other good harbor 
near, it was decided, notwithstanding the warning of Paul, to 
continue the voyage. 

About fifty miles west of the Fair Havens, on the south- 
ern coast of the Island of Crete, was the seaport of Phenice. 
Some who had been there spoke of that harbor as a safe one, 
and urged, that, at all hazards, they should try to reach Phe- 
nice, where they could winter if it were deemed expedient. 
Taking advantage of a gentle south wind, they were sailing 
close by the southern shore of Crete, when suddenly a very 
fierce tempest arose from the north-east, — a hurricane, proba- 
bly such as is now called a Levanter, but then called Eurocly- 
don, — and they were driven helplessly before it, in hourly 
peril of being ingulfed. 

About forty miles oif the southern coast of Crete was 
situated the small Island of Clauda. Under the lee of this 
island, they succeeded with great difficulty in saving the small 
boat which was attached to the ship, and which had been in 
great peril of being staved to pieces. The fury of the wind 
and waves was such, that there was danger that the over- 
strained planks would open seams, so that the ship would 
founder. To obviate this danger, heavy cables were passed 
around the ship, slipping them over the bows, and tightening 
lliem upon deck, so a3 to bind the loosening planks together. 
Still the gale was driving them at its mercy towards the coast 
of Africa. 

Near that coast there were two dangerous quicksands, ever 
shifting their places under thcnvash of the surging sea, so tnat 
their position could never be laid down with certainty in any 
chart. The storm raged with increasing fury until the third 
day, when they endeavored to lighten the ship by throwing 



208 history op cimistiAmTY. 

over a portion of her cargo. Still the days and nights of peril 
came and went. Thick clouds darkened the sky. Neither 
sun nor stars were visible. All reckoning was lost, as the 
shifting gale drove them they knew not whither. During this 
terrible tempest, the suite ring of body and mind was suoh, and 
the lcioors of the crow so incessant, that there hai been no 
opportunity for receiving food. All now seemed to have sur- 
rendered themselves to despair. The opening seams indicated 
that the ship must soon founder. In this hour of extremity, 
Paul said to the officers, — 

'•'Sirs, ye should have hearkened unto me, and not have 
loosed from Crete, and to have gained this harm and loss. 
And now I exhort you to be of good cheer ; f >r there shall be 
no loss of any man's life among you, but of the ship. For 
there stood by me this night the angel of God, whose I am, 
and whom I serve, saying, Fear not, Paul ; thou must be 
brought before Caesar": and, lo, God hath given thee all them 
that sail with thee. Wherefore, sirs, be of good cheer ; for I 
believe God, that it shall be even as it was told me. Howboit, 
we must be cast upon a certain island." l 

Fourteen days had now passed, during which the ship had 
been driven hither and thither over the foaming billows of the 
Adriatic Sea. About midnight of the fourteenth, the sailors 
saw some indications that they were approaching land, — 
probably by the roar of breakers, which a practised car will 
discern even amidst the wildest tumult of a storm. Upon 
sounding, they found twenty fathoms of water. Soon sound- 
ing again, they found but fifteen fathoms. Thus warned of 
their danger of being hurled in midnight darkness upon the 
rocks, they cast four anchors out of the stern, and waited 
impatiently for the dawn. 

Some of the sailors, as usual, were disposed to get out the 
only boat and escape to the shore, leaving the others to their 
fate. They pretended that it was their object to cast some 
more anchors out of the foreship. Paul, perceiving this, 
sa.\d to the centurion who was in command of the guard 

1 Acts xxvii. J21-2G. 



THE CAPTIVE IN CHAINS. 209 

of soldiers, "Except these abide in the ship, ye cannot be 
saved." 

The soldiers, in prompt obedience to military command, cut 
the ropes, and the boat drifted off into the darkness of the 
stormy sea. As the day was beginning to dawn, Paul en- 
treated them all to refresh themselves with food, saying that 
this was needful to strengthen them for the fatigues still before 
them, and assuring them that they should all be saved without 
the slightest bodily harm. It is very evident that the exalted 
Christian character of Paul had given him great influence 
with all on board. " He took bread, and gave thanks to God 
in presence of them all ; and, when he had broken it, he began 
to eat. Then were they all of good cheer." 

Further to lighten the ship, that they might draw nearer to 
the shore, they threw out the remainder of the cargo of wheat 
into the sea. With the early dawn, they saw the outline of an 
unknown island at a little distance before them. As the light 
increased, they saw a small bay, or indentation of the shore, 
where there was some slight protection from the violence of 
the sea. Raising their anchors, and spreading their mainsail, 
they ran the ship as far as possible upon the land. The bows 
struck the sand ; while the stern, still floating, was tossed up 
and down by the surging billows ; and thus the ship was rap- 
idly being broken to pieces. The soldiers, with their charac- 
teristic recklessness of human life, proposed that the prisoners 
should be put to death, lest they should escape by swimming j 
but the more humane centurion, cherishing kindly feelings for 
Paul, gave liberty to each one to save himself as best he 
could. Passengers and crew all now made for the shore. The 
strong swimmers sprang boldly into the sea ; others, on boards 
or fragments of the ship, reached the land. Thus they stood 
upon the beach, drenched, and shivering in the cold wintry 
wind, having lost every thing, their lives only being preserved. 
The storm still continued, and the rain was falling. 

Some of the natives of the island soon collected around 
them, and informed tliem that they were upon the Island of 
Malta, in the Adriatic Sea, about four hundred and eighty 
14 



210 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY 

miles from Crete. By the aid of the inhabitants, a fire was 
soon kindled, and they all assembled around it. As Paul gath- 
ered some sticks to throw upon the fire, a viper, one of the 
most venomous of reptiles, whose bite was deemed certain 
death, fastened itself upon his hand. Paul shook the reptile 
into the flames. They all looked to see him drop dead, sup- 
posing him to be a murderer who could not escape divine ven- 
geance; but soon, seeing no harm befall him, they went to 
the other extreme, declaring him to be a god. 

The shipwrecked company remained for three months upon 
the island before any opportunity was presented to leave it. 
That Paul devoted these three months to energetic efforts in 
the service of his Master, no one can doubt ; but we have no 
record of the incidents he encountered, or of the results of his 
labors, with one exception. In the narrative of Luke we find 
the following brief statement : — 

" In the same quarters were possessions of the chief man of 
the island, wlioce name was Publius ; who received us, and 
lodeed us three days courteously. And it came to pass, that 
the father of Publius lay sick of a fever and of a bloody-flux ; 
to whom Paul entered in and prayed, and laid his hands on 
him, and healed him. Sc, whe.i this was done, others also, 
which had diseases in the island, came, and were healed ; who 
also honored us with many honors ; and, when we departed, 
they laded us with such things an were necessary." * 

A ship from Alexandria by the name of " Castor and Pollux," 
which had wintered in the isle, was to sail with the returning 
spring for Rome. The shipwrecked prisoners, with their guard, 
were taken on board, and the sails were spread. They touched 
at Syracuse, the capital of the Island of Sicily, Which was on 
their direct route. Here they remained three days ; and then, 
weighing anchor, they directed their course towards the 
Straits of Messina, and landed at Rhegiuni, on the southern 
extremity of Italy. Thence, running along the western coast 
of the Italian peninsula, they came to Puteoli, about seven 
miles south-west of the present city of Naples. Puteoli was 
then the principal seaport in Southern Italy. 
* Acts xxviii, 7-10. 



TBE captive in chains. 211 

Here they found Christian brethren ; but it is not known 
by whom the gospel was brought to their region. Paul was 
permitted to tarry with them seven days. Thus there was op- 
portunity for the tidings to reach Borne (which was but fifty- 
six miles distant) of the approach of the renowned apostle. 
The Christians in Eome were doubtless pretty well acquainted 
with Paul's career. His Epistle to the Bornans had been 
written about five years before this. 

Leaving the ship at Puteoli, they commenced their journey 
by land to Eome. When they had advanced about ten miles 
oil their way, they came to a place called Appii- Forum. Here, 
and at another place a few miles farther on called the Three 
Taverns, they found brethren from Eome who had come to 
meet them. The cordiality with which the Christians greeted 
the venerable prisoner so cheered him, that "he thanked God, 
and took courage." 

Upon Paul's arrival in Eome, he was surrendered to the 
custody of the captain of the pretorian cohort. His name, 
according to Tacitus, was Burrhus Afranius. This officer 
kindly allowed Paul his liberty, save only that he was always 
chained to a soldier, who accompanied him wherever he went. 
After Paul had been in Eome three days, he invited his breth- 
ren (the Jews) to meet him, and thus addressed them : — 

"Men and brethren, though I have committed nothing 
against the people or customs of our fathers, yet was I deliv- 
ered prisoner from Jerusalem into the hands of the Eomans ; 
who, when they had examined me, would have let me go, be- 
cause there was no cause of death in me. Put, when the Jews 
spake against it, I was constrained to appeal unto Caesar ; not 
that I had aught to accuse my nation of. For this cause, 
therefore, have I called for you j because that for the hope of 
Israel 1 1 am bound with this chain." 

The Jews replied, " We neither received letters out of Judaea 
concerning thee, neither any of the brethren that came showed 
or spake any harm of thee. But we desire to hear of thee 
what thou thinkest ; for as concerning this sect, we know that 
everywhere it is spoken against." 

i The hope which the Jews cherished of the coming of the Messiah, 



212 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

A day was accordingly appointed, when they met Paul at his 
lodging; and he expounded to them the principles of the 
Christian religion, and of the kingdom of Christ, " persuading 
them out of the law of Moses and the prophets from morning 
till evening." 

Some believed, and some believed not. A very animated de- 
bate arose between the two parties, and they retired disputing 
vehemently. Paul regarded the result as a rejection of Christ ; 
for, quoting against the unbelieving Jews one of the denuncia- 
tions of the prophet Isaiah, he added, " Be it known, there- 
fore/ unto you, that the salvation of God is sent unto the 
Gentiles, and that they will hear it." Luke concludes his 
interesting narrative, which the Holy Spirit superintended, 
with the words, — 

" And Paul dwelt two whole years in his own hired house, 
and received all that came in unto him ; preaching the king- 
dom of God, and teaching those things which concern the 
Lord Jesus Christ, with all confidence, no man forbidding 
him." 



CHAPTER, IX. 



THE FIRST PERSECUTION. 



!Tho Population of Rome. — The Reign of Tiberius Caesar. — His Character and 
Death. — The Proposal to deify Jesus. — Caligula. — His Crimes, and the Earthly 
Retribution. — Nero and his Career. — His Crimes and Death. — The Spirit of the 
Gospel. — Sufferings of the Christians. — Testimony of Tacitus. — Testimony 
of Chrysostom. — Panic in Rome. — The Sins and Sorrows of weary Centuries. 
— Noble Sentiments of the Bishop of Rome. 



Q c^ 




HE inspired narrative of Luke, contained in the 
Acts of the Apostles, brings down the history 
of Christianity through a period of thirty years 
after the ascension of our Saviour, — to A.D. 62. 
The subsequent career of the apostle Paul is 
involved in much obscurity. It is generally 
supposed, from allusions in his letters, that he 
was soon brought to trial, and acquitted, in the year of our 
Lord 63. From -Rome, he probably returned to Jerusalem, 
and thence visited Ephesus, Laodicea, and Colosse. After- 
wards he returned to Rome by the way of Troas, Philippi, and 
Corinth. Eome presented to him the widest and most impor- 
tant field of labor, and on that account he probably decided 
to spend the remainder of his life there ; and there he suffered 
martyrdom (it is supposed, in the year of our Lord 65), as 
will be related in subsequent pages. 

But it is necessary for us now to retrace our steps a little, 
and to turn back a few leaves of the pages of history. Luke, 
in his narrative, has conducted Paul to Rome, then proud mis- 
tress of the world, containing a population variously estimated 

&3 



214 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

from two to four millions. Eome was the central and appar- 
ently impregnable fortress of pagan superstition ; and it was 
in Eome, in deadly struggle with her wicked emperors and 
her degraded populace, that some of the greatest victories of 
Christianity were won. The strife between paganism and the 
religion of Jesus continued for centuries, and developed hero- 
ism on the part of the Christians to which no parallel can be 
found in secular annals. 

It will be remembered, that, when Jesus was crucified as a 
malefactor upon Mount Calvary, — the sacrificial Lamb of God, 
bearing in his own wonderful person, as both God and man, 
the mysterious burden of the world's atonement, — Tiberius 
Caesar, the adopted son and heir of Octavius Caesar, or Caesar 
the August, sat upon the imperial throne. It was in the eigh- 
teenth year of the reign of Tiberius that Jesus was crucified. 
This event, the crucifixion of the Son of God, — probably the 
most wonderful which has occurred during the annals of eter- 
nity, — produced no impression whatever; was unknown in 
the distant palaces of Eonie. 

The death of Tiberius strikingly illustrates the depravity f 
the times. He had retired to the Island of Capreae, where, in 
a palace of the most luxurious surroundings, he surrendered 
himself to almost every conceivable indulgence of sin. For six 
years he remained there, while conspiracies and revolts agi- 
tated the empire. There was a young man in his suite by the 
name of Caligula, son of the renowned general Germanicus, 
whom Tiberius, through jealousy, had put to death. 

C xligula was one of the vilest of the vile. He ingratiated 
himself in the favor of the tyrant by pandering to all his 
wickedness, and by the most sycophantic adulation. At length, 
the death-hour of Tiberius tolled. Eemorse, with scorpion- 
lashes, hovered over his dying-bed. He resorted to every 
expedient to repel reflection, and to close his eyes against the 
approach of the king of terrors. In pursuit of health, he 
had left Capreae, and was at Misenum, near Naples. Caligula 
had, with many other courtiers, accompanied him. 

The wretched emperor, reclining upon his couch, was taken 



THE FIRST PERSECUTION. 215 

with a fainting-fit. His physician, feeling his pulse, said, 
" His life is ebbing fast." All thought him dying. The cour- 
tiers abandoned the powerless monarch, who had no longer 
any favors to grant, and gathered tumultuously with their 
congratulations around Caligula, declaring him to be emperor. 
Jq the midst of their hilarity, Tiberius, to the consternation 
of all, revived ; but he was weak and helpless, and could be 
easily put out of the way. A few of the courtiers entered his 
chamber, and pressed a pillow upon his face ; and, after a brief 
and feeble struggle, the smothered king lay still in death. 
Caligula, who was, if possible, still more infamous than Tibe- 
rius, was now decorated with the imperial purple. 

It is stated by Justin and other early writers, that Pontius 
Pilate, after the crucifixion of Christ, wrote to the Emperor 
Tiberius, giving an account of his death, his resurrection, and 
of the miracles which he had performed; and that Tiberius 
proposed to the Eoman senate that Jesus should be recognized 
as one of the gods, and that his statue should be placed in a 
niche in one of the temples of paganism. The senate, for 
some unexplained reason, did not accede to this request. 

Caligula, elated by his accession to sovereign power, sur- 
rendered himself to the uncontrolled dominion of lusts and 
passions, which had already been rendered furious and untama- 
ble by long years of indulgence. It is difficult to account for 
the cruel and senseless atrocities perpetrated by this monster 
upon any other supposition than that he was a madman, or 
that fiends had taken possession of his person. 

He erected a temple of gold; placed in it a statue of him- 
self, which he ordered to be dressed every day in clothes 
similar to those which he should that day wear; and, declaring 
himself to be a god, constrained his subjects to worship his 
statue with divine honors. The degraded populace, without 
religion, without any moral principle, hesitated not to bow in 
adoration before this image of the most contemptible of men. 
The most rare delicacies which money could purchase were 
offered in sacrifice at his shrine. His wife, and even his horse, 
were ordained as priests to officiate in his temple. The insane 



216 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

luxury which he displayed surpassed all that had hitherto 
been known. His baths were composed of the most costly 
liquids. His table service was of solid gold. Even in his 
sauces he had jewels dissolved, that they might be more 
costly. He built a stable of marble for his favorite horse, and 
fed him with gilded oats from a manger of ivory. 

The cruelty of this idiotic monster was equal to his folly. 
Senators, untried, uncondemned, were wantonly murdered at 
his bidding. Hip victims were thrown into the dens of half- 
famished lions and tigers to be devoured alive. It was one of 
the entertainments of his meals to place persons upon the 
rack, that he might be amused by their shrieks, and enter- 
tained by their convulsions. 

The guilty, cowardly wretch was ever trembling in every 
nerve in apprehension of assassination. Suspecting one of 
the most beautiful women of his court of being engaged in a 
conspiracy against him, he placed her upon the rack to enforce 
confession, and dislocated every joint in her body. Her 
shrieks and mutilation roused the courtiers to the energies of 
despair. Cherea, a Roman senator, approached the emperor, 
and, plunging a dagger into his heart, exclaimed, " Tyrant, 
think of this ! " 

Caligula fell dead. He was but twenty-nine years of age, 
and had reigned but four years. To such men, how awful the 
declaration of Christianity! — "All that are in the graves shall 
hear His voice, and shall come forth, — they that have done 
good, unto the resurrection of life ; and they that have done 
evil, unto the resurrection of damnation." 

Anarchy succeeded. As some drunken Roman soldiers were 
rioting through the palace, they found a half-crazed old man 
named Claudius, an uncle of Caligula, hidden behind a pile 
of lumber in the garret. They seized him, and partly in jest, 
and partly in earnest, proclaimed him emperor. The army 
took up the joke, and ratified the choice. In solid phalanx, 
with banners, shoutings, and bugle-peals, they presented him 
to the trembling senate, and compelled his enthronement 

In Claudius, the worst of conceivable bad elements were 



THE FIRST PERSECUTION. 217 

combined: he united the stupidity of the idiot with the 
ferocity of the demon. He commenced his reign about the 
forty-sixth year of the Christian era. Britain, then inhab- 
ited by barbaric tribes, invited invasion. Claudius sent an 
army to march through Gaul, and, crossing the channel, to 
plant the banners of the empire on those distant shores. 
Many and bloody were the battles; but the Eoman legions 
were triumphant. 

Claudius was so elated with the conquest, that he in per- 
son repaired to Britain to receive the homage of the savage 
inhabitants of the. conquered isle. Still the conquest was 
very imperfect. But a few of the tribes had been vanquished. 
Large portions of the island still remained under the sway. 
of their bold and indomitable chieftains. Thirty battles were 
subsequent! j 7 * fought, and several years of incessant conflict 
passed, before Britain was fairly reduced to the condition of 
a B-oman province. 

Messalina, the wife of Claudius, has attained the unenvia- 
ble notoriety of having been the worst, the most shameless 
woman earth has ever known. The renown of her profligacy 
has survived the lapse of eighteen centuries. The story of 
her life can now never be told: modern civilization would 
not endure the recital. The ladies of her court were com- 
pelled, under penalty of torture and death, publicly to prac- 
tise the same enormities in which she rioted. Her brutal 
husband was utterly regardless of the infamy of her life. 
At length, becoming weary of her, he connived with another 
for her assassination. 

Claudius, having murdered Messalina, married Agrippina. 
She had already given birth to the monster Nero. For a 
short time, she ruled her imbecile husband with a rod of 
iron. Three wives had preceded her. One day, Claudius, 
in his cups, imprudently declared that it was his "fate to be 
tormented with bad wives, and to be their executioner. 
Agrippina weighed the words. Claudius loved mushrooms. 
Agrippina prepared for him a delicious dish, sprinkled poison 
upon it, and with her own loving hands presented it to her 






218 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

spouse. She had the pleasure of seeing him fall and die in 

convulsions at her feet. 

Such was life in the palaces of Rome at the time of the 
apostles. Such was the world that Jesus came to redeem. 
The question is. sometimes asked, whether humanity is ad- 
vancing or retrograding in moral character. No one familiar 
with the history of past ages will ask that question. Mani- 
fold as are the evils in many of the courts of Europe at the 
present time, most of them are as far in advance of ancient 
Rome, in all that constitutes integrity and virtue, as is the 
most refined Christian family in advance of the most godless 
and degraded. 

Nero, a lad of seventeen, whom Claudius had adopted as his 
heir, succeeded to the throne. It is said, that, at the com- 
mencement of his reign, he gave indications of a humane spirit ; 
but this period was so short as scarcely to deserve notice. 
The character and career of Nero were such, that, from that 
day to this, the ears of mankind have tingled with the recital of 
the outrages he inflicted upon humanity. The sceptre of the 
world was placed in the hands of this boy in the year of our 
Lord 54. The knowledge of the doctrines of Jesus had 
already reached Rome. Paul was there, though in chains, 
boldly preaching the religion of Jesus of Nazareth. 

" There is one God, and one only," said Jesus ; " and all 
idols are vanity and a lie." 

"All mankind are brethren," said Jesus; "and God com- 
mands that every man should love his brother as himself." 

" The divine benediction," said Jesus, " rests upon the lowly 
in spirit, the pure in heart ; upon the peacemakers ; upon 
those who visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, 
and who practise every thing that is true and lovely and 
of good report. Repent of sin, seek pardon through faith in a 
Saviour who- has died to atone for your sins, commence a 
life of devotion to the glory of God and to the welfare of 
your brother-man, and death shall introduce you to realms 
of honor, glory, and immortality." 

" God is no respecter of persons," said Jesus. " The mon- 



TEE FIRST PERSECUTION. 219 

arcli and the slave stand alike at his tribunal. The wicked, 
and those whp fear not God, shall be cast into helL The 
smoke of their torment ascendeth for ever and ever." 

These offers of salvation to all who would repent and com- 
mence the Christlike life, these good news and glad tidings, 
were joyfully accepted by hundreds and by thousands of the 
poor and the oppressed and the world-weary ; but the denun- 
ciations of divine wrath upon those who, hy their enormities, 
were converting this world into a realm of woe, fell appallingly 
upon the ears of proud and unrelenting oppressors. 

The teachings of Jesus were thus hateful to Nero. He hated 
that religion which condemned him. He hated those who 
preached it. He deliberately determined to blot out that 
religion from the world ; to silence in death every tongue that 
proclaimed it. It was apparently an easy task to do this. 
Nero was monarch of the world. A resistless army moved 
unquestioning at his bidding. All power was apparently in 
his hands. He was a man, for the times, highly educated. 
He was endowed with intellectual shrewdness as well as physi- 
cal energy, and could bring public opinion to bear against the 
Christians, while he assailed them with the axe of the heads- 
man and the flames of martyrdom. 

The Christians were few and feeble. To turn against them 
popular indignation, atrocious libels were fabricated. The 
Christians were in the habit of taking their infants to church 
to be baptized. Pagan slanderers affirmed that they were 
taken there to be offered in bloody sacrifice. The Christians 
often met to celebrate the sacrament of the Lord's Supper: 
they ate of that bread which represented the body of Jesus 
broken for us ; they drank of that wine emblematic of the 
blood of Jesus, shed for our sins. The pagans declared that 
the Christians were cannibals ; that they secretly met in mid- 
night feasts, and, having murdered a man, ate his flesh, and 
drank his blood. 

Thus a terrible prejudice was created against the Christians. 
Many were deceived by these cruel slanders who would possi- 
bly have joined the disciples had they known the truth. Thus 






220 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

shrewdly Nero prepared the public mind for the outrages he 
was about to inflict upon those whom he had doomed to de- 
struction. Even Tacitus, the renowned Roman historian, a 
man of much candor, was manifestly under the influence of 
these gross libels. In the following terms, he describes the 
first persecution of the Christians at Rome by Nero : — 

" Christ, the founder of that name, was put to death as a 
criminal by Pontius Pilate, procurator of Judaea, in the reign 
of Tiberius. But the pernicious superstition, repressed for a 
time, broke out again, not only through Judaea, where the 
mischief originated, but through the city of Rome also, whither 
all things horrible and disgraceful flow from all quarters as to 
a common receptacle, and where they are encouraged. Accord- 
ingly, first those were seized who confessed that they were Chris- 
tians ; next, on their information, a vast multitude were con- 
victed, not so much on the charge of burning the city, as of 
hating the human race. 

"And in their deaths they were made the subject of sport; 
for they were covered with skins of wild beasts, and worried 
to death by dogs, or nailed to crosses, or set fire to, and, wheu 
day declined, burned to serve for nocturnal lights. Nero 
offered his own gardens for that spectacle, and exhibited a cir- 
censian game, indiscriminately mingling with the common 
people in the habit of a charioteer, or else standing in his 
chariot. Whence a feeling of compassion rose towards the 
sufferers, though guilty, and deserving to be made examples o:? 
by capital punishment, because they seem not to be cut off for 
the public good, but victims to the ferocity of one man." l 

It will be noticed in the above paragraph that Tacitus 
alludes to a charge which Nero brought against the Christians, 
of having set fire to the city of Rome. One day, some one 
repeated in conversation, in presence of the tyrant, the line, 
"When I am dead, let fire devour the world." Nero replied, 
" It shall be said, ( When I am living, let fire devour the 
world.' " 

Jlome then contained, according to the general estimate, 
* Worjss of Tacitus, Oxford translation, p. 4g3 



THE FIRST PERSECUTION. 22l 

about four million inhabitants. They were crowded together 
in narrow, winding streets. Nero ordered his emissaries to 
apply the torch in various sections of the city. The wind was 
fresh j the buildings, which were mostly of wood, were dry ; the 
names fierce. Nero ascended a neighboring tower to view the 
cruel, sublime, awful spectacle. Earth never witnessed such a 
scene before, has never since. For nine days and nights the 
flames raged in quenchless fury. Uncounted multitudes, 
caught in the narrow streets, perished miserably. The most 
magnificent specimens of architecture and priceless works of 
art were consumed. 

The motives which led to this diabolical deed were probably 
complex. It is said that Nero, satiated with every conceivable 
indulgence, longed for some new excitement. The spectacle 
of the dwellings of four millions of people in flames; the 
frenzy, the dismay, the runnings to and fro, of the perishing 
millions, — men, women, and children ; the rush and roar of the 
conflagration, flashing in billowy flames by night to the clouds, 
— all combined to present a spectacle such as mortal eye had 
never gazed upon before. 

The estimated population of the Roman empire at this time 
was about a hundred and fifty millions. By the assessment 
of enormous taxes upon these millions, funds could easily be 
raised to rebuild Rome in hitherto unimagined splendor. It 
is said that this ambition was one of the motives which in- 
spired Nero to his infamous deed. 

Nero commenced with great energy, levying taxes, and re- 
building the city ; but the cry of the starving, houseless mil- 
lions could not be stifled. The tyrant was alarmed. To shield 
himself from obloquy, he accused the Christians of the crime, 
and visited them with the most terrible retribution. 

" Not all the relief," writes Tacitus, " that could come from 
man, not all the bounties that the prince could bestow, nor all 
the atonements which could be presented to the gods, availed 
to relieve Nero from the infamy of being believed to have 
ordered the conflagration. Hence, to suppress the rumor, he 
falsely charged with the guilt, and punished with the most 
exquisite tortures, the persons called Christians." 



222 HISTORY OF CERlSTlANITt. 

To enter into the detail of the outrages to which the Chris- 
tians were exposed would but harrow the feelings of the reader. 
Demoniac ingenuity was employed in inflicting the most revolt- 
ing and terrible suffering; while at the same time the victims 
were so disguised, sewed up in skins of wild beasts, or wrapped 
in tarred sheets, as to deprive them of all sympathy, and expose 
them to the derision of the brutal mob. Tender Christian 
maidens passed through ordeals of exposure, suffering, and 
death, too dreadful for us, in these modern days, even to con- 
template. That divine support which Christ promised to his 
followers in these predicted hours of persecution sustained 
them. The imagination cannot conceive of greater cruelty 
than Nero inflicted upon these disciples of Jesus: and yet in 
death they came off more than conquerors ; and it proved then 
emphatically true, that " the blood of the martyrs was the seed 
of the Church." 

It was during this persecution by Nero that Paul suffered 
martyrdom at Rome. He had been there a prisoner in chains 
for some years. With his accustomed power and success, he 
had preached the gospel of Jesus; and those pure doctrines had 
gained access even to the palace of the Caesars. A large and 
flourishing church had been gathered in that city, which in 
corruption equalled, even if it did not outvie, Sodom and Go- 
morrah. On no page of Holy Writ does the light of inspira- 
tion beam more brightly than in Paul's Epistle to the Church 
at Rome. 

Chrysostom says, that a cup-bearer of Nero, and one of the 
most distinguished females of his court, became, through the 
preaching of Paul, disciples of Jesus, and recoiled from the sin 
and the shame everywhere around them. This so enraged the 
tyrant, that he ordered Paul immediately to be beheaded. 

It is one of the legends of the Romish Church, founded upon 
evidence which has not generally been entirely satisfactory to 
Protestants, that the apostle Peter visited Pome, where he 
was arrested, and imprisoned with Paul. It is said that the 
two apostles were incarcerated together in the prison of 
Mamertin, which was at the foot of the Capitoline Hill, and 



THE FIRST PERSECUTION. 223 

which was constructed of damp and gloomy underground 
vaults, extensive in their range, and crowded with the victims 
of tyranny. Two of the prison-guards and forty-seven of the 
prisoners, impressed by the character and by the teachings of 
these holy men, became converts. Peter baptized them. Nero 
ordered both of the apostles to be executed. Their death took 
place, according to the declaration of the Catholic fathers, on 
the same day, — the 29th of June, A.D. 67. St. Paul, being a 
Roman citizen, could not be subjected to the ignominy of cru- 
cifixion : he was beheaded. St. Peter, being a Jew, was re- 
garded as a vile person, and doomed to the cross. Paul was 
led a distance of three miles from the city to a place called 
the Fountain of Salvienne, where the block of the executioner 
awaited him. On the way, forgetful of self, he preached the 
gospel of Jesus to the soldiers who guarded him. Three of 
them became converts, and soon after suffered martyrdom. 

St. Peter was led across the Tiber to the quarter inhabited 
by the Jews, and was crucified on the top of Mount Janiculum. 
As they were preparing to nail him to the cross in the ordi- 
nary manner, he said that " he did not merit to be treated as 
was his Master," and implored them to crucify him with his 
head downwards. His wish was granted. 1 

Nero had a half-brother, Britannicus, the son of Claudius 
and his own mother Agrippina. Legitimately, he was entitled 
to the throne rather than Nero. The tyrant became jealous 
of Britannicus. He was invited, with his mother and his sister 
Octavia, to a supper in the palace of Nero. A goblet of poi- 
soned wine was placed before him : he drank, fell into convul- 
sions, and died in the arms of his mother. Nero reclined 
listlessly upon a sofa, and, as he witnessed his agonizing con- 
vulsions, said " he did not think much was the matter with 
Britannicus ; that it was probably merely a fainting-fit." When 
it appeared that the prince was really dead, he ordered the 
body to be immediately removed and burned ; while the enter- 
tainment went on undisturbed. It was a tempestuous night. 
Floods of rain were falling, and a tornado swept the city, aa 

1 Histoire du Christianisme, par PAbbe Fleury. Tbe abbe" gives all the au- 
thorities upon which he bases his narrative. 



224 HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN ITT. 

the funeral-pyre of the young prince blazed in the Campus 
Martius. 

"The appointments for his burial," writes Tacitus, "had 
been prepared beforehand. His ashes were entombed in the 
Campus Martius during such tempestuous rains, that the pop- 
ulace believed them to be denunciations of the wrath of the 
gods against the deed. Nero, by an edict, justified the hur- 
rying of the obsequies, alleging that it was an institution of 
their ancestors to withdraw from the sight such as died prema- 
turely, and not to lengthen the solemnity by encomiums and 
processions." 

The vast estates of Britannicus, consisting of palaces, villas, 
and other property, were seized by Nero, and divided among 
his partisans to purchase their support. 

Agrippina understood full well that Britannicus had been 
poisoned by his brother Nero ; but she feigned to be deceived, 
and to believe that he died accidentally in a fit. Agrippina 
was another Messalina. She hated Nero, and determined to 
secure his death. Nero hated her, and was plotting day and 
night how he might kill her, and yet not expose himself to the 
charge of being the murderer of his mother. They both affect- 
ed the most cordial relations in their social intercourse, and 
addressed each other in the* most endearing epithets. 

Agrippina was immensely rich, had numerous and powerful 
partisans, and had formed the plan of effecting the assassina- 
tion of Nero, and of placing upon the throne one of her favor- 
ites, Bubellius Plautus. Nero, whose suspicions were ever ac- 
tive, received some intimations of this plan. The following 
ingenious device he adopted to rid himself of his mother : 
He caused a vessel to . be constructed with more than regal 
splendor, but so arranged, that, by the withdrawal of a few bolts, 
the heavy canopy which overhung the royal couch would fall 
with a fatal crash ; and at the same time planks would give 
way, which would cause the vessel immediately to founder. 

Agrippina was residing at her magnificent country-seat at 
Antrum, near Borne. Nero invited his mother to an entertain- 
ment, such as only a Boman emperor could provide, at Baiae, 



TSE FIRST PERSECUTION. 225 

near Naples. It is probable that the mother was somewhat 
deceived by the marvellous affection manifested for her by her 
son. She accepted his invitation. She was conveyed to Baiae 
in a sedan. Nero met her upon her approach, embraced her 
affectionately, and led her to the villa of Bauli, washed by the 
sea, where her reception was as magnificent as imperial wealth 
and power could give. Agrippina was assigned a seat by the 
side of her son. He loaded her with caresses, amused her 
with anecdotes, and honored her by pretending to seek her 
counsel upon the most serious affairs of state. 

It was a late hour when the banquet came to a close. Nero 
conducted his mother to the beach, and assisted her into the im- 
perial barge, which, driven by three banks of oars, was appoint- 
ed to convey her to Antium. It was a brilliant night. The 
unclouded sky was resplendent with stars, while not a breath 
of wind rippled the polished surface of the sea. With lusty 
sinews the well-trained seamen pushed the barge from the 
shore. The hired assassins of Nero on board had made all 
the arrangements for the destruction of the empress, her attend- 
ants, and the seamen ; while precautions had been adopted for 
their own escape. They had proceeded but a short distance 
on their voyage, when suddenly the heavy-laden imperial can- 
opy fell, with such force as to crush to death One of the female 
attendants who reclined at Agrippina's feet ; but it so hap- 
pened that some of the timbers fell in such a way as to 
protect Agrippina from serious harm, though she was slightly 
wounded. Instantly apprehending the treachery of her son, 
she had sufficient presence of mind to remain perfectly quiet. 
One of her maids, who was thrown into the sea, in her drowning 
terror cried out that she was Agrippina, and implored of them 
to save the mother of the prince. The assassins smote her 
upon the head with their oars and boat-poles, and she sank 
senseless in the waves. The barge soon foundered ; but Agrip- 
pina floated off on a portion of the wreck. The agents of 
Nero, supposing they had effected their object, swam to the 
shore. 

Agrippina, in the early dawn, was picked up by a small boat, 

15 



226 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

and conveyed to her villa at Antium. Shrewdly she pretended 
to regard the adventure as an accident. She despatched a 
courier to inform her affectionate son, that, through the mercy 
of the gods, she had escaped fearful peril. She entreated him 
not to be needlessly alarmed, as she had received hut a slight 
wound, and would probably soon be quite restored. 

Nero was thunderstruck. He knew his mother too well to im- 
agine that she was blind to the stratagem from which she had 
so wonderfully escaped. He felt assured that she w r ould at once 
resort to some desperate measures of retaliation and of self- 
dsfence. Not a moment was to be lost. He despatched a 
band of assassins to Antium to break into the apartment of 
his mother, and with their daggers immediately to secure her 
death beyond all question. 

The armed band reached the villa late at night, burst open 
the gates, and advanced rapidly to the chamber where the em- 
press had retired to her bed. All the slaves encountered on 
the way were seized. In the chamber of Agrippina a dim 
light was burning, and one maid was in attendance. The 
assassins surrounded the bed. The leader struck her a heavy 
blow on the head with a club : the rest plunged their daggers 
into her heart. She slept in death, the guilty mother of a 
demoniac son. 

" In these particulars," writes Tacitus, " authors are unani- 
mous ; but as to whether Nero surveyed the breathless body 
of his mother, and applauded its beauty, there are those who 
have affirmed it, and those who deny it." 

After the murder of Agrippina, which was so openly perpe- 
trated as to render it vain to attempt any disguise, Nero, either 
consumed by remorse or distracted by terror, retired to Naples. 
It is said that his appearance and movements indicated that 
he was the victim of utter misery ; while at the same time 
his demoniac malice blazed forth more luridly than ever. 
He sent a communication to the senate, stating that he had 
caused the death of his mother because she was plotting his 
assassination. His sister Octavia and his wife Poppaea soon 
fell victims to his insane vengeance : the one was placed in a 



THE first persecution: 227 

vapor-batli ; had her veins opened in every joint, and then had 
her head cnt off ; the other perished from a brutal kick. 

Immediately there ensued a series of executions and assassi- 
nations of the most illustrious men of Rome, who were accused 
of conspiring against the tyrant. Tacitus gives the details of 
many of these atrocities. The recital would be but wearisome 
and revolting to the reader. 

Eome was stricken with terror. No one was safe from either 
the poisoned cup, the dagger, or the headsman's axe. At length, 
human nature, even unspeakably corrupt as it had become in 
Rorue, could endure the monster no longer. Servius Galba, 
seventy-two years of age, was governor of Spain. He was a 
man of unusual virtues for those times, was of pensive, thought- 
ful temperament, and endued with courage which no peril 
could intimidate. Placing himself at the head of his devoted 
legions, he openly proclaimed war against the tyrant, and com- 
menced a march upon Rome for his dethronement. The tid- 
ings outstripped the rapid movements of his troops, and garri- 
son after garrison unfurled the banners of revolt. 

One night, Nero, dressed in woman's clothes, was in one of 
the palaces of Eome, surrounded by his boon companions, male 
and female, indulging in the most loathsome orgies, when a 
great uproar was heard in the streets. A messenger was sent 
to ascertain the cause. He returned with the appalling tidings, 
that Galba, at the head of an avenging army, was marching 
rapidly upon Eome ; that insurrection had broken out in the 
streets ; and that a countless mob, breathing threatenings and 
slaughter, were surging toward the palace. 

The wretched tyrant, as cowardly as he was infamous, was 
struck with dismay. He sprang from the table so suddenly 
as to overturn it, dashing the most costly vases in fragments 
upon the floor. Beating his forehead like a madman, he cried 
out, " I am ruined, I am ruined ! " and called for a cup of poi- 
son. Suicide was the common resort of the cowardly, in 
those days, in their hours of wretchedness. Nero took the 
poisoned cup, but dared not drink it. He called for a dagger, 
and examined its polished point, but had not sufficient nerve 



228 BISTOBY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

to press it to his heart. He then rushed from the palace in 
his woman's robes, with his long hair fluttering in the wind. 
Thus disguised, he almost flew through the dark and narrow 
streets, intending to plunge into the Tiber. As he reached 
the bank, and gazed upon its gloomy waves, again his courage 
failed. 

Several of his companions had accompanied him. One of 
them suggested that he should flee to a country-seat about 
three miles from Rome, and there conceal himself. Insane 
with terror, bareheaded, in his shameful garb, he covered his 
face with a handkerchief, leaped upon a horse, and succeeded, 
through a thousand perils, in gaining his retreat. Just before 
he reached the villa, some alarm so frightened him, that he 
leaped from his horse, and plunged into a L hicket by the road- 
side. Through briers and thorns, with torn clothes and lacer- 
ated flesh, he reached the insecure asylum he sought. 

In the mean time, the Roman senate had hurriedly assem- 
bled. Emboldened by the insurrection, an 1 by the approach 
of Galba, they passed a decree, declaring Nero to be the 
enemy of his country, and dooming hiix. to death more viajo- 
rum; i.e., according to ancient custom. Some one of Nero's 
companions brought him the tidings in his hiding-place. 
Pallid and trembling, he inquired, " And what is death 
more majorum ? " The appalling reply was, " It is to be 
stripped naked, to have the head fastened in the pillory, 
and thus to be scourged to death." 

The monster who had amused himself in witnessing the 
tortures of others recoiled with horror from this dreadful 
infliction. Seizing a dagger, he again endeavored to nerve 
himself to plunge it into his heart. A prick from its sharp 
point was all that he could summon resolution to inflict. He 
threw the dagger aside, and groaned in terror. Again he 
strove to talk himself into courage. 

" Ought Nero," said he, " to be afraid ? Shall the emperor 
be a coward ? No ! Let me die courageously." 

Again he grasped the dagger, and anxiously examined its 
keen edge ; and again he threw it aside with a groan of despair. 



TEE FIRST PERSECUTION. 229 

Just then the clatter of horsemen was heard, and a party 
of dragoons was seen approaching. His retreat was dis- 
covered, and in a few moments Nero would be helpless in 
the hands of his enemies : then there would be no possible 
escape from the ignominious and agonizing death. In the 
delirium of despair, he ordered a freedman to hold a sharp 
sword, so that he might throw himself violently against it. 
He thus succeeded in severing the jugular vein, and his 
life-blood spouted forth. As he sank upon the ground, the 
soldiers came up. He looked at them with a malignant 
scowl ; and, saying " You're too late ! " he died. 

Thus perished this monster of depravity. It is said that 
this event took place on the 19th of June, A.D. 68. Many 
Christians at the time supposed Nero to be the antichrist. 
This wretch had reigned thirteen years, and died in the thirty- 
second year of his age. In view of his career, the only solu- 
tion upon which the mind can repose is found in the declara- 
tion of Scripture, "After death cometh the judgment." 

These events occurred eighteen hundred years ago. During 
the long and weary centuries which have since elapsed, what a 
spectacle has this world almost constantly presented to the 
eye of God! The billows of war have, with scarcely any 
intermission, surged over the nations, consigning countless 
millions to bloody graves. Pestilence and famine have ever 
followed in the train of armies, creating an amount of misery 
which no human arithmetic can ever gauge. Slavery, intem- 
perance, domestic discord, ungovernable passions, the tyranny 
of kings, the oppression of the rich and powerful, and the 
countless forms in which man has trampled upon his feebler 
brother-man, have made this world indeed a vale of tears. 
The student of history is appalled in view of the woes which, 
century after century, man has visited upon his fellow-man. 
For all this there is and can be no remedy but in the religion 
of Jesus. Here is the panacea for nearly every earthly woe. 
Here, and here only, is there hope for the world. 

Against this almost universal corruption the Christians 
were struggling. The conflict seemed hopeless. In this 



230 



HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 



moral warfare, the only weapon they had to wield was the 
simple preaching of the gospel of Christ. But that gospel, by 
its wonderful triumphs, has proved itself to be " the wisdom 
of God and the power of God to salvation." It is refreshing 
to read a letter which Clement, the bishop of Ronie, wrote to 
the church at Corinth about this time. We can quote but 
one paragraph : — 

."Let us endeavor to be of the number of those who hope 
to share in the promises of God. And how shall we accom- 
plish this, my dear brethren ? If our minds are established in 
the faith ; if we seek in all things to please God ; if we bring 
ourselves in entire accord with his holy will ; if we follow the 
paths of truth, renouncing all injustice, avarice, contention, 
anger, deceptions, complainings, impiety, pride, vanity, ambi- 
tion, — then, my dear brothers, we shall be in the path which 
conducts us to Jesus Christ our Saviour. Let the strong help 
the feeble, and let the feeble respect the strong. Let the rich 
give to the poor, and let the poor thank God that he has given 
to the rich the means of supplying their wants. He who has 
created us has introduced us into this world, which he has so 
richly prepared for our abode. Having received from him 
so many favors, we ought to thank him for all things. To him 
be glory for ever and ever. Amen." 

Such was the spirit of the religion of Jesus. To banish 
this gospel from the world, imperial Eome often combined 
all its energies. 



CHAPTER X. 



ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD. 



Character of the Roman Army. — Conspiracy of Otho. — Death of Gralba. — Vitel- 
lius Emperor. — Revolt of the Jews, and Destruction of Jerusalem. — Reign of 
Vespasian. — Character of Titus; of Domitian. — Religion of Pagan Rome. — 
Nerva. — Anecdotes of St. John. — Exploits of Trajan. — Letter of Pliny. — Let- 
ter of Trajan. 



S we contemplate the awful scenes of depravity 
and misery witnessed under the reign of many 
of the Roman emperors, the sympathies of the 
reader are naturally excited in "behalf of the op- 
pressed millions. But it is a melancholy truth, 
that the people were as had as the rulers. The 
assassin and his victim, the oppressors and the 
oppressed, the emperor in his palace, the nohles in their castles, 
the beggared poor in their hovels, were alike merciless, morally 
degraded, and depraved. Probably earth has never witnessed 
a more diabolical band than was congregated in a Poman army. 
The Poman senate which had deposed Nero, and consigned 
him to death, immediately proclaimed Galba emperor. He 
was comparatively a worthy man, seventy-two years of age, 
and childless. Conscious of the awful corruption which reigued 
at Pome, and of his inability to stem the torrent ; oppressed 
with the infirmities of years, and drawing near to the grave, — 
he adopted as his successor a young officer in the army, Piso 
I/ucianus, a man of noble character and of rare virtue. But 
the last thing that the army desired was a virtuous sovereign. 
The soldiers, accustomed to plunder and license, desired a ruler 

231 




232 HISTORY OF CHKISTIANITY. 

who would gratify all tlieir fierce arid luxurious desires. They 
were exceedingly dissatisfied with the restraints which Galba 
imposed upon them. They wished for a tyrant who would 
trample down the nations, and who would allow the army to 
share in the plunder. Consequently, the soldiers were ripe for 
insurrection both against Galba and Piso. 

There was a man in the army named Otho. He was one 
of the vilest of the vile ; and had been so intimately the friend 
and accomplice of Nero, that he had ardently hoped for adop- 
tion. Tacitus says of him, — 

" Otho was a stranger from his earliest days to every fair 
pursuit, and in the pride of manhood was distinguished for 
nothing but riot and debauchery. His emulation in luxury 
recommended him to the notice of Nero." Most of the sol- 
diers favored his views, and the creatures of Nero's court 
zealously supported him as a congenial character. Numbers 
lamented the loss of Nero, and longed for the former laxity of 
discipline. 

Otho formed a' conspiracy in the army against Galba. He 
ridiculed his severe discipline, the restraints he imposed upon 
his troops, and his neglect to enrich them with plunder, and 
pamper them with luxuries. He assured them that Piso 
would be like Galba ; that he would in the same way restrain 
their passions, and enforce rigid discipline. With talent for 
sarcasm, he scouted the Idea of justice and mercy, declaring 
" that the affectation of practising such virtues, as they were 
called, was ridiculous in such a world as this." 

The conspiracy ripened. At the appointed time, the sol- 
diers, with clashing of weapons and loud huzzas, raised Otho 
upon their shoulders, and declared him to be their emperor. 
The virtuous Galba was pursued with malignity even more 
intense than that which had driven Nero to suicide. The 
scene of his death is minutely described by Tacitus. Tumultu- 
ous thousands of the Roman soldiers, with oaths and impreca- 
tions, rushed from their encampment into the city to the pal- 
ace cf the emperor. A resistless mob of armed demoniac men 
surged through the streets. The populace fled before them. 



ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD. 233 

Galba had left the palace, and was on his way to the Forum. 
The infuriate mob of infantry and cavalry scattered in all 
directions. Some burst into the Forum, and trampled the 
senators beneath their feet. Galba was seized. As the assas- 
sins gathered around him, he looked up, and calmly said, — 

"If you wish for my head, here it is. I am willing at any 
time to surrender it for the good of the Eoman people." 

Scarcely had he uttered these words ere a sinewy soldier, 
with one blow of his heavy broadsword, struck off his head, 
and it rolled upon the pavement. Another soldier seized it by 
the hair, and thrust a pike into the palpitating flesh; and, with 
the shoutings of tumultuous thousands, the gory trophy was 
paraded through the streets. Such were the scenes which 
were witnessed in pagan Koine while the disciples of Jesus 
were preaching in obscurity ^ but with invincible zeal, from 
house to house, the gospel of love to God, and love to man. 

The senate, overawed by the army, was compelled to ratify 
this foul assassination, and to declare Otho emperor. We have 
now reached the year of our Lord 67. 

There was at this time an ambitious but able general, named 
Vitellius, in command of a powerful Roman army upon the 
Danube. He had secured the good-will of his fiendlike troops 
by the plunder which he allowed them, and the license in 
which they were permitted to indulge. He refused to recog- 
nize Otho as emperor ; and, raising the standard of revolt, by 
a vote of the army caused the imperial dignity to be conferred 
upon himself. Vitellius, at the head of his army, marched upon 
Rome to wrest the sceptre from the. hands of his rival. Otho 
advanced to meet him. The armies were each seventy thou- 
sand strong. They encountered each other on the plains of 
Lombardy, near Mantua. The battle was long and bloody. 
At length, the legions of Otho were utterly routed and dis- 
persed. Dismissing most of his attendants, the ruined adven- 
turer fell upon his own sword, and died. He had previously 
requested his slaves to bury him immediately. "This had 
been his earnest request,'' writes Tacitus, "lest his head should 
be cut off, and be made a public spectacle." 



234 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Vitellius, who at once compelled the senate to proclaim him 
emperor, was not by nature a tyrannical man; but he was 
luxurious and dissolute in the extreme, surrendering himself 
to every possible form of self-indulgence. He even equalled 
Nero in his unbridled, shameless profligacy. It is said that 
the expenses of his table alone, for a period of four months, 
amounted to a sum equal to about thirty million dollars. 

There was little in the character of such a man to excite 
either respect or fear. A conspiracy was soon formed for his 
overthrow. There was quite a distinguished general, named 
Vespasian, in command of the Roman army in Judaea. He 
had acquired celebrity in the wars of Germany and Britain, 
and, having been consul at Rome, had many acquaintances 
of influence there. Vespasian entered into a correspondence 
with the conspirators. It was not difficult to induce his 
soldiers to proclaim him emperor. 

Vespasian, remaining himself in the East, sent his army, 
under his ablest generals, to Rome. A terrible battle was 
fought beneath its walls and through its streets, during 
which the beautiful capitol, the pride of the city, was laid 
in ashes. The troops of Vespasian were triumphant, and the 
opposing ranks were utterly crushed. Vitellius, as cowardly 
as he was infamous, hid in the cabin of a slave. He was 
dragged forth, and paraded through the streets, with his 
hands bound behind him, and with a rope round his neck. 
After enduring hours of ignominy, derision, and torture, he 
was beaten to death by the clubs of the soldiers. His body 
was then dragged over the pavements ; and the mangled mass, 
having lost all semblance of humanity, was thrown into 
the Tiber. 

The obsequious senate immediately united with the vic- 
torious army in declaring Vespasian emperor. While these 
scenes of tumult and carnage were transpiring, and the whole 
Roman empire was desolated with poverty, oppression, and 
woe, Christianity was making rapid and noiseless progress 
among the masses of the people in many remote provinces of 
the empire too obscure or distant to attract the attention 



ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD. 235 

of the emperors. The teachings of Jesus were alike adapted 
to one and to all, to every condition, and to every conceivable 
circumstance in life. The doctrines of the cross came with 
moral guidance and with unspeakable consolation to all who 
would accept them, — to the millions of bondmen 5 to the 
despised freedmen; to the soldier; to centurions, governors, 
and generals; to the members of the imperial palace. It 
said to all, " Earth is not your home : lay up for yourselves 
treasure in heaven. Accept life's discipline, bear it patiently, 
that you may be prepared by it for honor, glory, and immor- 
tality in heaven." 

The Jews in Judsea took advantage of these civil discords 
to rise in rebellion against their Roman masters. Vespasian 
organized an army, which he placed under his son Titus, 
to quell the revolt. When Jesus was crucified at Jerusalem, 
the Jews said, " His blood be upon us and on our children." 
It was a fearful imprecation, and terribly was it realized. 
Christ had minutely foretold the utter destruction of Jerusa- 
lem, so "that not even one stone should be left upon another." 

" When ye shall see Jerusalem," said Jesus, " compassed 
with armies, then know that the desolation thereof is nigh. 
Then let them which are in Judaea flee to the mountains, and 
let them which are in the midst of it depart out ; and let not 
them that are in the countries enter thereinto. Eor these 
be the days of vengeance, that all things which are written 
may be fulfilled. But woe unto them that are with child, and 
to them that give suck, in those days ! for there shall be 
great distress in the land, and wrath upon this people. And 
they shall fall by the edge of the sword, and shall be led away 
captive into all nation's ; and Jerusalem shall be trodden down 
of the Gentiles." 1 

It was in the year of our Lord 70. Vials of woe, which 
even the mystic symbols of apocalyptic vision cannot exag- 
gerate, were poured out upon the doomed city. Human nature 
has perhaps never before nor since endured such woes. It is 
impossible for the imagination to conceive more appalling hor- 

1 Luke xxi. 20-24. 



236 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

rors, or sufferings more terrible, than were then experienced. 
The reader will find those scenes of rage, despair, and misery, 
minutely detailed by the pen of Josephus. It requires strong 
nerves to enable any one to peruse the revolting narrative 
with composure. 

Probably the disciples of the Saviour, warned by their 
divine Master, had all fled from Jerusalem and Judaea, convey- 
ing the tidings of the gospel wherever they went in their wide 
dispersion. Our Saviour had urged them to a precipitate 
flight. " When ye therefore shall see," said he, " the abomi- 
nation of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet " (refer- 
ring to the Roman armies), " stand in the holy place, then let 
them which be in Judaea flee into the mountains ; let him 
which is on the housetop not come down to take any thing out 
of his house ; neither let him which is in the field return back 
to take his clothes : for then shall be great tribulation, such 
as was not since the beginning of the world to this time ; no, 
nor ever shall be. And, except those days should be shortened, 
there should no flesh be saved ; but, for the elect's sake, those 
days shall be shortened." 1 

The siege lasted six months. The city was entirely demol- 
ished. A million of Jews perished by the sword, pestilence, 
and famine. A hundred thousand who were taken captive 
were sold into slavery. All Judaea was thus brought again 
into submission to Rome. Titus, laden with the spoils of the 
city, and accompanied by his long train of captives, returned 
in triumph to Rome. He was received with universal acclaim. 
The signal victory he had achieved strengthened the throne 
of his father. In commemoration of the event, a triumphal 
arch was erected, — the Arch of Titus. This massive struc- 
ture, reared eighteen hundred years ago, remains almost 
perfect to the present day. It still attracts the thoughtful 
gaze of every tourist in Rome. 

Vespasian proved one of the best of the Roman emperors. 
With great energy and wisdom, he devoted himself to the 
welfare of his wide-spread realms. It was during his reign 

1 Matt. xxiv. 15-22. 



ROMAN EMPERO&S, GOOD AND BAD. 237 

that the world-renowned Coliseum was reared, — the most 
gigantic amphitheatre in the world. It furnished seats fol 
eighty thousand spectators, and standing-room for twenty 
thousand more. It was in the arena of this vast edifice that 
subsequently so many Christians, with a hundred thousand 
spectators gazing mockingly upon them, endured the pangs 
and won the crown of martrydom. 

But under Vespasian there was no persecution. Indeed, it 
is probable, that he, residing so long in Judaea, had, like Felix, 
become somewhat acquainted with Christian doctrines ; and, 
like Agrippa, he may have been almost persuaded to become a 
Christian. The teachings of Jesus exert an ennobling influ- 
ence far beyond the bounds of the organized church ; and it 
is certain that Vespasian exhibited a character of humanity, 
of purity, of interest in the public welfare,. very different from 
that which was developed by most of the Roman emperors 
Still there is no evidence that he became an acknowledged 
disciple of Jesus. It is said that he died on the 24th of June, 
A.D. 79, after a prosperous reign of ten years. 

Feeling himself to be dangerously ill, he remarked to those 
around him, derisively, in view of what he knew would be the 
action of the senate in voting his deification, "I perceive that 
I am about to become a god." As his end drew near, he said, 
with pride which he could not have learned from the religion 
of Jesus, " An emperor should die standing." Aided by his 
friends, he rose from his couch, and, while sustained by their 
arms, expired. 

~\Ye are confirmed in our view, that the Emperor Vespasian 
must have been brought in some degree under the influence 
of Christian doctrine, from the marvellous change, resembling 
true conversion, which suddenly took place in the character of 
his son Titus, who succeeded his father on the throne. 

In early years, this young man was exceedingly dissipated; 
but to the surprise of every one, and without any known cause 
which history has transmitted to us, he abandoned all the 
vicious practices of his youth, separated himself from all his 
dissolute companions, and commenced a life of integrity, of 



238 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

purity and benevolence, which was certainly such as the 
religion of Jesus enjoined. With devotion hitherto unexam- 
pled, he consecrated himself to the welfare of his realm, and 
to promoting the happiness of those around him. One of his 
remarks, illustrative of his character, has survived the lapse 
of eighteen centuries. It will continue to live in the hearts 
of men so long as earth shall endure. At the close of a day 
in which no opportunity had occurred of doing good, he ex- 
claimed sadly, "Perdidi diem," — "I have lost a day" This 
truly Christian sentiment is beautifully versified in the words, — 

" Count that day lost whose low-descending sun 
Views at thy hand no worthy action done." 

It was during the reign of Titus, in A.D. 79, that the cities 
of Herculaneum and Pompeii — as corrupt in all conceivable 
abominations as Sodom and Gomorrah could possibly have 
been — were buried beneath the lava and ashes of Vesuvius. 
They were discovered early in the last century. The remains 
of these cities, so wonderfully preserved, and now being brought 
to light, reveal much of the habits and social customs of those 
days. 

We know not that Titus was a Christian. The light is 
very dim which comes down to us through these long centu- 
ries. But it is certain, that, in very many things, he mani- 
fested the spirit of Christ. The reign of this good man was 
short. Titus had a brother Domitian, an utterly depraved 
young man. He was to Titus as Cain to Abel. Anxious to 
grasp the sceptre, it is said that he poisoned his brother 
Titus' when he had attained the forty-first year of his age 
and the second of his reign. The wretched Domitian ascended 
the throne. It is certain that he had heard of Jesus, of 
Christianity. The guilty are always suspicious. Knowing 
that the Christians regarded Jesus as their King, that they 
were looking for his second coming to reign as their Lord and 
Master, he regarded Jesus as a formidable rival. Apprehen- 
sive that there might be some heirs of Jesus around whom the 
Christians might rally, he arrested a large number of the dis- 



ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD. 239 

ciples, and had them brought before him for examination. 
Anxiously he inquired of them what money they had in their 
treasury, what territory they possessed, and when and where 
the reign of Jesus would commence. The disciples assured 
him that they had neither lands nor money. In proof, they 
showed him their hands, indurated by toil. They assured 
him that the kingdom of Jesus was to be, not an earthly king- 
dom, but a heavenly and angelic; and that his reign would not 
commence until the end of the world, when Jesus would 
appear in clouds of glory. 

Domitian was by no means satisfied with these replies. *It 
was the general belief of the Christians, that Christ, in his 
second coming, might appear at any time. This was appalling 
tidings to Domitian. Such a dethronement was more terrible 
than any other which could be thought of. He hated the 
Christians, and wreaked undiscriminating and pitiless ven- 
geance upon them. Many were driven from their homes into 
exile. They carried with them into the remotest provinces of 
the empire the glad tidings of the gospel. Many suffered 
death, accompanied by all conceivable tortures. 

It is one of the legends of the Catholic Church, that the 
aged apostle John, being then at Rome, was, by the order of 
Domitian, thrown into a caldron of boiling oil. Miraculously 
he escaped without injury. He was then banished to, the Isle 
of Patmos. It was there that he was favored with that won- 
derful series of visions recorded in the book of Revelation. 
In these mystic pages, so much of which is still enigmatical, 
the apostle represents what was to happen in succeeding ages, 
— particularly that the Church should suffer persecution ; the 
punishment of its persecutors ; the ruin of Rome, where idol- 
atry reigned ; the destruction of idolatry itself, and the final 
glory of the triumphant Church. 1 

There was a very renowned Roman general, by the name of 
Agricola, who, under Titus, had been very efficiently employed 
in Britain in endeavoring to civilize the barbarous natives 
He taught them many of the manners and customs of the more 

i L'Abb(5 Fleury, p. 101. 



240 HISTORY OF CBRISTIANlff. 

enlightened Romans. It is said that Domitian, fearing that 
Agricola was acquiring reputation, caused him to he poisoned. 

Sin and insanity are closely allied. Domitian wished to 
enjoy the splendors of a Roman triumph ; hut he had never won 
a victory. He was no soldier. Still he got up a magnificent 
civil and military display, and with streaming banners, and 
pealing music, and the tramp of armed legions, entered Rome, 
charioted like a conqueror returning from the most triumphant 
campaign. A large number of slaves, disguised as captives of 
war, were led in the train to grace a triumph which exposed 
Domitian to universal ridicule and contempt. He assumed 
divine honors ; reared statues of himself in gold and silver 
in conspicuous positions, and required his subjects to address 
him as a god. Any who were suspected of being unfriendly 
to him were mercilessly punished with torture and death. 
The extravagance of his expenditure was so enormous, that 
Martial says, in one of his epigrams, — 

"If the emperor would call in all his debts, Jupiter himself, 
even though he had made a general auction of Olympus, 
would have been unable to pay two shillings in the pound." 

The t} r rant kept a tablet, upon which he wrote the names 
of those whom he had doomed to die. His infamous wife 
Domitia, for some cause suspecting him, got a peep at the 
tablet while her husband was asleep. To her consternation, 
she found her own name, with those of several others, on the 
fatal list. She immediately entered into a conspiracy with 
them for the assassination of her husband. One of the con- 
spirators approached the emperor under the pretence of pre- 
senting him a memoir disclosing a conspiracy. Assuming that 
his right arm was crippled, it was hung in a sling. As he 
presented the memorial with his left hand, he suddenly drew a 
concealed dagger, and plunged it into the heart of the tyrant. 

Thus died Domitian, as is reported, on the 17th of Septem- 
ber, A.D. 96. He was but forty-five years of age, and had 
reigned fifteen years. This wicked world of ours has pro- 
duced many monsters. Among them all, it would be difficult 
to find any one more execrable than Domitian. In his charac- 



SOMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD. 241 

ter, not a redeeming trait could be found to mitigate the hatred 
and contempt with which he was universally regarded. The 
tidings of his death were hailed with joy throughout the 
empire. His statues were demolished, and his name consigned 
to infamy. 

While these scenes were transpiring within the hounds of 
the Roman empire, almost nothing is known of the condition 
of the world outside of those not very clearly-defined limits. 
There are dim and shadowy glimpses of vast tribes or nations 
wandering over the hills and plains, as savage, as ferocious, as 
the wild beasts in whose skins they were clad. They seemed 
to be ever struggling in battle, as they surged to and fro over 
the vast plains of India, around the shores of the Caspiau, and 
through the denies of the Caucasus, amidst the gloomy forests 
extending far away from the remote banks of the Danube to 
the regions of eternal ice and snow. Storms of passion and 
cruelty were here sileutly accumulating, which were soon to 
burst with overwhelming destruction upon the Roman empire. 
With many thinking men there was a growing apprehension 
of these barbarians, who were gathering in such appalling 
swarms upon the frontiers of the Roman world. Occasionally 
an adventurous traveller would penetrate these wilds, and 
bring back astounding stories of the numbers, barbarism, and 
warlike ferocity, of these innumerable tribes. 

If we look within the Roman empire, we see little but crime 
and misery. A haughty slaveholding aristocracy, few in num- 
ber, but strong in the resistless power of the Roman legions, 
trampled the degraded and depraved millions beneath their 
feet. The Roman aristocracy had scarcely a redeeming virtue. 
The pillage of the known world had fallen into their hands. 
There were those of them who possessed estates larger than 
many modern kingdoms. Their vice and luxury were bound- 
less. They seldom moved unless guarded by a troop of inso- 
lent retainers, whose devotion they easily purchased by spoils 
of the plundered. 

The religion of pagan Rome consisted of a gorgeous display 
of magnificent temples, shrines, and imposing ceremonies. It 
10 



242 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

was a religion which never ennobled the character, exerting 
no influence whatever in the promotion of public or individual 
virtue. Gibbon, whose authority on this point will not be 
questioned, states " that the private character and conduct of 
these foul idolaters were never in the slightest degree re- 
strained by the religion which they professed." 

Upon the very day of the death of Domitian, the senate, 
apprehensive that the army might anticipate them in the 
choice' of a successor, conferred the imperial purple upon ISTerva, 
a venerable and virtuous man of sixty-five. We say that he 
was venerable and virtuous ; while there is no evidence that 
he was a disciple of Jesus. It is impossible now to ascertain 
how far the influence of the Jewish religion, with its ten 
commandments and its revelation of one only God, had ex- 
tended beyond the Israelitish organization, or how far the 
teachings of Jesus had penetrated the community and was 
influencing the lives of those who did not openly profess his 
name ; but it is certain that here and there individuals were 
found, though few in number, who were devout men, like the 
Roman centurion Cornelius, " who feared God with all his 
house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to 
God alway." 

Such a man was Nerva. He immediately recalled all the 
Christians who had been banished from Rome by the Emperor 
Domitian. He issued a decree forbidding that anyone should 
be molested for cherishing the faith either of the Jews or of 
the Christians. The dungeons, which were filled with the vic- 
tims of tyranny, he opened, and liberated the captives. The 
venerable apostle John was released from his exile at Patmos, 
and returned to Ephesus, where it is said that he remained for 
the rest of his life. 

It is often difficult to discriminate between what should be 
regarded as true and what as fable in the annals of those 
early days. But the following incident, given by the Abbe 
Fleury, is alike interesting and instructive, as showing the 
reputation which the venerable apostle enjoyed. It is said 
that St. John one day attended a meeting of the disciples in 



ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD. 243 

a small village a few miles from Ephesus. A young man of 
remarkable personal beauty was also present, who was so 
frank and genial in bis manners as at once to win the tender 
regard of the affectionate disciple whom Jesus loved. Ad- 
dressing himself to the pastor of the church after the young 
man had left, the apostle said, "In the presence of this 
church, and of cur Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, I commend 
to your especial care this young man." As he left to return 
to Ephesus, he very emphatically repeated the solemn charge. 

The bishop or pastor of the church sought the young man, 
won his confidence, taught him the religion of Jesus, and 
finally by baptism received him to the church. The young 
man having partaken of the sacrament of the Lord's supper, 
the bishop deemed him safe, and relaxed his vigilance. But 
he, being exposed anew to temptation, fell into bad company, 
was lured to midnight festivals, gradually abandoned all reli- 
gious restraints, and plunged into the most reckless course of 
dissipation. His last state became so much worse than the 
first, that he at length became captain of a gang of robbers, 
whose rendezvous was among the mountains, and who were 
the terror of the community. 

Some time after this, the apostle again visited this rural 
church. With deep interest he inquired for the young man. 
The bishop, with tears filling his eyes, replied, — 

" He is dead, — dead to God. He has become a bad man 
and a robber. Instead of frequenting the church, he has 
established himself in the fastnesses of the mountains." 

The venerable apostle was overwhelmed with grief. After 
a moment's reflection, he said, " Bring me immediately a horse 
and a guide." Without any preparation, in the clothes he 
then wore, he advanced towards the region infested by the 
robbers. Scarcely had he entered their rocky haunts ere 
some of the gang who were on the lookout arrested the 
defenceless, penniless, humbly-clad old man. " Conduct me 
to your chief," said the apostle : " I have come expressly to see 
him." 

The captain soon made his appearance, armed from head to 



244 BISTORT OF CERISTlANITf. 

foot. The moment he recognized the apostle, overwhelmed 
with shame, he turned, and endeavored to escape by flight. 
John, notwithstanding the infirmity of years, pursued him 
with almost supernatural speed, and cried, — 

"My son, why will you fly from your father, an old man 
without arms? Have pity upon me, my son : do not fear. 
There is still hope that you may he saved. I will plead for 
you with Jesus Christ. If it be necessary, I will willingly 
give my life for yours, as he has given his for us. Believe me 
that Jesus Christ has sent me to you." 

At these words the young man arrested his steps, but could 
not raise his eyes from the ground. He threw aside his arms, 
and then, trembling, burst into tears, weeping bitterly. When 
the apostle had reached him, the young man threw his arms 
around the neck of the aged Christian, and with sobbings, 
either of remorse or penitence, embraced him tenderly. The 
apostle endeavored to console the guilty wanderer from the 
fold of Christ. He assured him that Jesus was ready to for- 
give all. He led him back to the church, engaged all the dis- 
ciples to pray for him, and kept him constantly by his side 
as a companion and a friend. Under these influences, it is 
said that the prodigal became a true penitent, re-entered the 
church, and ever after continued one of its brightest ornaments. 

It was at Ephesus that John wrote the Gospel that bears 
his name, and also his three Epistles. It is said, that in his 
extreme old age, when his faculties of body and mind were so 
enfeebled that he could not make a continuous discourse, he 
would frequently rise in the prayer-meetings of the church, 
simply repeating the words, " My dear children, love one an- 
other." When some of the brethren, wearied by the continued 
utterance of the same sentiment, inquired of him why he 
always repeated the same words, he replied, "Because this is 
the commandment of our Lord. If you keep this command- 
ment, you will keep all the rest." The venerable apostle died 
at Ephesus in the year of our Lord 99. 

The Emperor Nerva, because he was a good man, was ex- 
tremely unpopular with the army, and with the aristocracy, 



ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD. 245 

whose wealth was derived from plundering the helpless. Feel- 
ing the infirmities of years, and having no children, Nerva 
looked about him for some available candidate to whom he 
could transmit the crown. There was a distinguished Eoman 
general, named Trajan, at the head of an army upon the 
Danube. He was stationed there to resist the barbarians from 
the north, who were now making frequent inroads into the 
Koman empire, burning and plundering without mercy. Tra- 
jan constructed abridge across the Danube. The ruins of this 
stupendous structure of twenty-two arches still remain, testi- 
fying to the amazing skill of the Boman engineers. Across 
this bridge the impetuous general marched his legions, and, 
constructing a military road for their advance, pursued the 
barbarians through the wilds of Dacia to the River Dneister, 
chastising them with terrible severity. The importance of 
this conquest was deemed so great, that, in commemoration 
of the event, a magnificent monument was reared in Rome. 
This world-renowned shaft — the Column of Trajan, a hundred 
and eighteen feet in height — still stands, one of the most 
admired works of art in the world. Upon a spiral belt in- 
twined around it were sculptured the principal events of the 
expedition. Napoleon I. adopted the Column of Trajan as 
the model of the still more lofty and imposing column raised 
in the Place Vendome in. honor of the French army. 

Nerva pronounced Trajan his heir. Hardly had he taken 
this important step ere he suddenly died, after a reign of but 
little more than a year. Trajan, who, unopposed, assumed 
the sceptre, though exceedingly ambitious of military renown, 
and imposing upon himself no restraints in sensual indulgence, 
was a very intelligent, and naturally a kind-hearted man. 
But he could not look with a friendly eye upon the advances 
which Christianity was making. The teachings of Jesus 
condemned both his military career and his personal babits. 

Pliny, called the Younger, was then governor of Pontus, in 
Asia Minor. There were very many Christians within his 
realms. Very severe edicts had been issued from Eome against 
them. It was Pliny's duty to see these decrees executed 



246 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

But his philosophic mind and humane spirit recoiled from 
consigning to torture and. to death men, women, and children 
in whom he could see no crime worthy of punishment. He 
accordingly wrote to the Emperor Trajan the following letter, 
which has been transmitted to us by Eusebius : — 

"I deem it my duty, sire, to consult your majesty upon all 
those questions respecting which I am in doubt; for who 
can better guide me in my perplexities, or instruct me in my 
ignorance? I have never been present at the trial of the 
Christians ; therefore I do not know for what they are punished, 
or with what crimes they are charged: but I have many 
doubts whether regard should not be paid to the difference of 
age ; whether the most tender children should not be distin- 
guished from those of maturer years ; whether those who repent 
should be entitled to a pardon ; or whether it should be of any 
avail that one who has once been a Christian is no longer 
such. It is also a question with me whether the name alone 
should be punished, without any other crime, or the crimes 
usually attached to that name. 

" Still the following is the course which I have adopted 
towards those who have been brought before me as Christians : 
I have interrogated them if they were such. When they 
have confessed it, I have asked them a second and a third 
time, threatening them with punishment. If they have per- 
severed in the declaration, I have pronounced judgment 
against them ; for I can have no doubt, that, whatever may be 
the character of the Christian faith, inflexible obstinacy merits 
punishment. 

" There are others of these fanatical persons whom I have 
ordered to be sent to Rome, since they were Eoman citizens. 
Accusations, as is usual in such cases, are greatly multiplied, 
and very many are denounced to me. An anonymous pro- 
scription-list has been made out, containing the names of many 
who deny that they are, or ever have been, Christians. 

" When I have seen those accused worshipping the gods 
with me, and offering incense to your image which I have 
erected among the statues of the gods, and ; most of all ; when 



ROMAN EMPERORS, GOOD AND BAD. 247 

they have abjured Christ, I have thought it my duty to set 
them at liberty ; for I am told that it is impossible to compel 
those who are truly Christians to do either of these things. 

" So far as I can learn, the only fault or error of which the 
Christians are guilty consists in this : They are accustomed 
to assemble on a certain day before the rising of the sun, and 
to sing together a hymn in honor of Christ as a god. Instead 
of binding themselves to the commission of any crime, they take 
a solemn oath not to be guilty of fraud or robbery or impuri- 
ty, or any other wrong. They promise never to violate their 
word, never to be false to a trust. After this they retire, soon 
to meet again to partake of a simple and innocent repast ; 
but from this they abstained after the ordinance I issued, in 
accordance with your orders, prohibiting the people from as- 
sembling together. 

" The repasts of the Christians were innocent, although the 
calumny has been widely diffused that they stifled an infant 
and ate it. I thought it necessary, in order to ascertain the 
truth, to subject to the torture two females who had served at 
these feasts ; but I could detect nothing but an unreasonable 
superstition. 

" This subject has seemed to me the more worthy of investi- 
gation in consequence of the great numbers of the accused. 
Many persons, of all ages, of both sexes, and of every condi- 
tion in life, are placed in peril. The superstition has infested 
not only the cities, but the villages and the remote rural dis- 
tricts. But it seems to me that it can be arrested and exter- 
minated. Certain it is that the temples of the gods, which 
had been almost abandoned, have begun to be frequented. 
Solemn sacrifices, after long interruption, are again celebrated. 
Even in the most sparsely-settled districts, the victims for 
sacrifice are to be seen. Hence one may judge of the large 
number of those who would return to the gods if an oppor- 
tunity were given for repentance." 

This letter was written about the year of our Lord 106. 
Trajan, in his reply, says, — 

"You have done perfectly right, my dear Pliny, in the 



248 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

inquiry you have made concerning Christians ; for truly no 
one general rule can be laid down which can be applied to all 
cases. They must not be sought after. If they are brought 
before you, and convicted, let them be capitally punished ; yet 
with this restriction, — that if any renounce Christianity, and 
evidence their sincerity by supplicating our gods, howevei 
suspected they may be for the past, they shall obtain pardon 
for the future on their repentance. But anonymous libels in 
no case ought to be noticed ; for the precedent would be of the 
worst sort, and perfectly incongruous with the maxims of my 
government." 

This response of the emperor checked in some degree the 
persecutions with which the Christians were menaced ; but it 
did not prevent their enemies from inflicting upon them, under 
various pretexts, all the injury in their power. In many 
places the populace, and in others the magistrates, pursued 
them with obloquy and oppression ; so that, while there was no 
general and declared persecution, they were everywhere ex- 
posed to insult and outrage. 









CHAPTER XL 



MARTYRDOM. 



The Martyrdom of Ignatius.— Death of Trajan. — Succession of Adrian.— Infidel 
Assaults. — Celsus. — The Apology of Quadrat. — The Martyrdom of Synv 
phorose and her Sons.— Character and Death of Adrian. — Antoninus.— 
Conversion of Justin Martyr. — His Apology. — Marcus Aurelius. — Hostility 
of the Populace. — The Martyrdom of Polycarp. 



T the commencement of the second century, Igna- 
tius was bishop or pastor of the church in Anti- 
och, in Syria. He had occupied the post for 
forty years, and had obtained a very high reputa- 
tion for devout character and Christian zeal. The 
Emperor Trajan, who had issued orders through- 
out the empire, that those refusing to worship the 
pagan gods, and persisting in Christianity, should be put to 
death, passing with his victorious army from the banks of the 
Danube to combat the barbarians of the East, stopped for a 
time at Antioch. Ignatius was brought before him, charged 
with the crime of being a Christian. The emperor sternly 
inquired of him, " Why do you disobey our orders, and influ- 
ence others to ruin themselves by doing the same ? " 

Ignatius replied, " I must be obedient to God, whom I bear 
in my heart." 

" Who is the God," asked Trajan, " whom you bear in your 
heart ? " 

" Jesus Christ," was the reply. 

" And do you not believe that we bear in our hearts those 

?49 




250 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

gods who combat with us against our enemies ? " was the ques- 
tion of Trajan. 

The Christian bishop boldly replied, " You deceive yourself 
in calling the demons of the Gentiles gods. There is but one 
God, who has made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and 
all which they contain ; and there is but one Jesus Christ, the 
only Son of God, to whose kingdom I aspire." 

Trajan replied, " Do you speak of him who was crucified 
under Pontius Pilate ? " 

" Yes," responded Ignatius : " he has made atonement for 
my sins, and has put all the malice of Satan under their feet 
who carry him in their hearts." 

" Do you, then, carry in your heart him who was crucified ? " 

" I do," was the response ; " for it is written, 'I will dwell in 
them, and walk with them.' " 

Trajan was irritated, and angrily replied, " Since Ignatius 
confesses that he carries in his heart him that was crucified, 
we command that he be conveyed in chains, under a guard of 
soldiers, to Rome, there to be thrown to the beasts, for the 
entertainment of the people." 

The venerable bishop was hurried by his guard to Seleucia. 
There he took ship for Smyrna. In this city he had an inter- 
view with the illustrious Christian pastor Polycarp, who was 
soon to follow him in the path to martrydom. From Smyrna 
he was conveyed to Troas, and thence to Neapolis. Having 
found a ship in one of the seaports of the Adriatic, he sailed 
to Ostia, near Rome. Here he was met by a large number of 
Christians, who were overwhelmed with grief in view of his 
cruel and inevitable doom. Ignatius, however, who was cheer- 
ful, and even happy, as he looked forward to his approaching 
martyrdom, consoled them with touching words of love and 
affection. The hour for the sacrifice came. The Coliseum was 
crowded with the jeering multitude, filling. all its vast expanse, 
to enjoy the spectacle. The venerable bishop was placed in the 
centre of the arena. 

As the iron doors of the dens were opened, a large number 
of ferocious wild beasts, gaunt with famine, with loud roarings, 



MARTYRDOM. 251 

and lashing their sides with rage, rushed into the enclosure. 
Sharp and short was the agony which this benevolent disciple 
of Jesus was called to endure. The famished beasts, lions and 
tigers, leaped upon him ; and scarcely a moment elapsed ere he 
was torn limb from limb, and devoured. Nothing remained 
but one or two of the larger bones. A hundred thousand pa- 
gans raised a shout of applause ; but louder was the acclaim 
as clustering angels gathered around the Christian who had 
been faithful unto death, welcoming him to his heavenly home. 

While these tragic scenes were transpiring in Eome, Trajan 
was pushing his conquests on the distant shores of the Persian 
Gulf. He was seized with sickness and pain ; and it was soon 
evident that the hour of his death was near at hand. In a 
state of extreme dejection and languor, he bade adieu to the 
army, and by short stages endeavored to reach Eome. But 
inexorable Death could not be appeased. He had advanced 
only as far as Cilicia when he sank into the grave. His guilty 
spirit ascended to that tribunal to which he had so cruelly 
sent Ignatius before him. 

Trajan, on leaving the Persian Gulf, had intrusted the com- 
mand of his army to his nephew Adrian, a man of much 
military renown. The army proclaimed him emperor. The 
senate at Rome ratified the appointment. Adrian was kind 
to his friends, demoniacal to his enemies. He had many 
virtues, and many terrible vices. 

Christianity was by this time very widely extended through- 
out the Roman world. Many new sects sprang up, and fanati- 
cal and immoral heresies arose. Hence the reputation of 
Christianity suffered severely. All these religious adventurers, 
endeavoring to establish new sects, many of them influenced 
by the worst of motives, assumed the name of Christians. 
The extravagances which they taught, and the abominations 
in which they indulged, in many places, caused the very name 
of Christian to be regarded with contempt and odium. The 
pagans were by no means disposed to discriminate between 
the true disciples of Jesus and those miserable fanatics who 
Were called by the Christian name. 



252 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

As. the new religion gained in strength, the antagonism of 
its opponents grew more virulent. Several men of letters 
arose, who wrote against Christianity with great force of argu- 
ment, and power of sarcasm. Prohahly no infidel writer in 
any age has surpassed the Epicurean philosopher Celsus in 
the shrewd adaptation of his writings to influence the popular 
mind : indeed, from that day to this, infidel writers have done 
little more than repeat his arguments. He overwhelmed the 
Christians with calumnies and contempt. 

These attacks influenced intelligent Christians to write in 
defence of their faith. The Emperor Adrian, in the year 140, 
visited Athens. Quadrat, the hishop of the church there, a man 
of much ability, wrote an apology in defence of the Christian 
faith. He presented a copy to the Emperor Adrian. It seems 
probable that the argument exerted a great influence upon the 
mind of the emperor; for, while in Athens, he declared himself 
so favorably impressed with what he could learn of the faith 
and conduct of Christians, that he was unwilling that they 
should any longer be exposed to persecution. He even ex- 
pressed the wish that Christianity should be recognized as one 
of the religions of Eonie. 

To a governor of one of the provinces who wrote a letter on 
that subject he replied, "If the people of the province will 
appear publicly, and make open charges against the Christians, 
so as to give them an opportunity of answering for themselves, 
let them proceed in that manner only, and not by rude de- 
mands and mere clamors. If any thus accuse them, and show 
that they have committed any offence against the laws, do you 
decide according to the nature of the crime committed. But, 
by Hercules ! " exclaims the impetuous emperor, " if the charge 
be a mere calumny, do you estimate the enormity of the offence, 
and punish the calumniator as he deserves." 

Adrian had erected upon the banks of the Tiber, near Eome, 
a very magnificent palace. With characteristic fickleness, ho 
decided to dedicate it to the pagan gods. The oracles were con- 
sulted. They returned the response, probably through the cun- 
ning of the idolatrous priests, that the Christian widow Synv- 






_ 



kARTIEDOM. 253 

phorose, with her seven sons, was exciting the displeasure of 
the gods by their worship of the Christians' God; and the 
emperor was promised, if he would sacrifice them, he should 
Le blessed in all his undertakings. Adrian ordered Sympho- 
rose and her sons to be brought before him. At first he 
employed very mild measures, and in kind tones entreated 
them to offer sacrifices to the pagan gods. 

Symphorose replied, "My husband and my brother were 
both your tribunes. They suffered many torments for the 
name of Jesus, rather than sacrifice to idols. By their death 
they have vanquished your demons. They chose rather to be 
beheaded than to consent to sin. The death which they 
have suffered has covered them with ignominy in the sight 
of men, but has crowned them with glory before the angels." 

The emperor was irritated, and began to threaten. 

"Unless you sacrifice/' said he, "with your sons, to the all- 
powerful gods, I will offer you all up in sacrifice to them." 

The Christian matron replied, " Your gods cannot receive 
me in sacrifice ; but if I am burned for the name of Jesus 
Christ, my God, I shall render the flames to which vour 
demons are consigned more tormenting." 

The emperor curtly rejoined, "Take your choice: either 
sacrifice to my gods, or die miserably." 

" Do you think," said Symphorose meekly, " that fear will 
cause me to yield? It is my desire to rejoin my husband, 
whom you have slain for the name of Jesus Christ." 

The emperor ordered her to be taken to the Temple of Her- 
cules. There she was scourged, and then hung by the hair of 
her head. As she still remained firm, he ordered her to be 
thrown into the river, with a large stone tied around her neck. 
The savage deed was immediately performed ; and the body 
of the heroic Christian martyr disappeared beneath the waves. 
The next day, the emperor caused her seven sons to be brought 
before him. In vain he exhorted them to sacrifice to the 
idols. Seeing all his menaces to be unavailing, he erected 
seven stakes, and bound the brothers to them with cords. He 
ordered a different death for each one. The first, named Cres* 



254 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

cent, had his throat cut. The second, Julian, was pierced 
through the breast with a pike. The third, Nemesius, was 
struck to the heart with a dagger. Thus they sH perished. 
Their mutilated bodies remained during the day exposed to 
the jeers of brutal pagans. The next morning the emperor 
ordered the corpses to be collected and thrown into a ditch. 
The Christians subsequently gathered up the remains, and 
buried them about eight miles from Rome. The ruins of a 
church are still to be seen, which in after-years was erected 
upon that spot, called the Church of the Seven Brothers. 

Such is the narrative which has come down to us from those 
distant ages. We have no reason to doubt its essential ac- 
curacy. Such scenes were continually occurring; and the 
evidence is incontrovertible, that, in those days of terrible per- 
secution, God did sustain the disciples of Jesus with super- 
natural support. Tender children and timid maidens encoun- 
tered death in its most frightful forms with firmness which 
excited the wonder and admiration of the sturdiest pagans. 

The Eastern sage, as he accompanied a monarch through 
the gorgeous saloons of his palace, said that it had one great 
defect, — it had no chamber which was death-proof. Adrian 
found this true in the magnificent pile which he had reared 
upon the banks of the Tiber. He was taken ill. The disease 
developed itself in a tormenting dropsy. He had no rest by 
day, no rest by night. The weary hours were filled with suf- 
fering. Remorse was undoubtedly gnawing at his heart. He 
had known the better way, but had refused to walk in it. 
Paganism offered him no consolations. Christianity he had 
rejected. In his anguish he longed to die, — to take that leap 
in the dark which must be so terrible to any thoughtful man 
who has not accepted the truth, that life and immortality are 
brought to light in the gospel. His sufferings were so great, 
that he begged his friends to kill him, — to present him the 
poisoned cup, or to plunge the dagger to his heart. But no 
one was willing to perform that service. He was often heard 
to exclaim, ' How miserable a thing it is to seek death, and not 
to find it ! How strange it is that I, who have put so many 
others to death ; cannot die myself!" 






MARTYRDOM. 255 

Upon this couch of suffering, from which death removed him 
in the sixty-second year of his age, he wrote the following 
lines to his departing spirit, so affecting, so melancholy, that 
they have survived the lapse of eighteen centuries : — 

" Animula, vagula, blandula, 
Hospes coinesque corporis 
Quae nunc abibis in loca, 
Pallidula, rigida, nudula ? 
Nee, ut soles, dabis jocos." 

Prior has endeavored to translate or imitate this stanza in 
the following lines, which but feebly express the spirit of the 
original : — 

" Poor little, pretty, fluttering thing I 

Must we no longer live together ? 
And dost thou plume thy trembling wing 

To take thy flight thou know'st not whither ? 
Thy humorous vein, thy pleasing folly, 

Lie all neglected, all forgot ; * 

And pensive, wavering, melancholy, 

Thou dread'st and hop'st thou know'st not what." 

Adrian appointed Antoninus, a man of singular purity and 
integrity of character, who was about fifty years of age, to suc- 
ceed him on the throne. He enjoined it upon him to adopt as 
his heir Marcus Aurelius, a very beautiful boy of seventeen, 
whose fascination of character and manners had won the love 
of the Emperor Adrian. 

Antoninus was a humane man. Christianity had obtained 
prominence, and had become an important element in the 
Eoman world. But still the Christians were hated by the 
idolaters, and suffered innumerable wrongs and outrages from 
the hands of the populace, even when there was no govern- 
mental persecution. Their sufferings enlisted the sympathy 
of Antoninus. The mere fact that one was a Christian, no 
matter how pure his character, how exemplary his life, exposed 
him to »very conceivable indignity from the idol- worshipping 



256 HISTORt OF CHRIST! ANITt. 

populace. The local magistrates, yielding to the clamors of 
the mob, would afford no protection to those who were accused 
of being the disciples of Jesus. Antoninus issued the fol- 
lowing decree : — 

" If any one shall for the future molest the Christians, and 
accuse them merely on account of their religion, let the person 
who is arraigned be discharged, and the accuser be punished 
according to the rigor of the law." 

During the reign of Antoninus, there arose a very distin- 
guished man, now known as Justin Martyr, the productions 
of whose pen are still read with admiration, and whose name 
will never die. He was born in Samaria, of Greek parentage. 
In youth he enriched his mind by intense study and extensive 
travel. All truly great men are thoughtful aud pensive. The 
mystery of life oppresses them, and the thought of what there 
is beyond this life absorbs the soul. 

Justin has given an exceedingly interesting account of his 
endeavors to find some system of philosophy or some doctrines 
of religion which could guide and solace him. We give the 
narrative in jiis own words : — 

" At first I placed myself under the instruction of a Stoic. 
After some time, I perceived that he could teach me nothing 
respecting God : indeed, he confessed that he knew nothing 
of God himself, and that he did not consider a knowledge of 
him to be at all necessary. I immediately left the Stoic, and 
addressed myself to a Peripatetic, a disciple of Aristotle. He 
was, at least in his own opinion, an extremely subtle man. 
After spending some days with him, I found that he was more 
interested in the money I should pay him than in any thing 
else. Being satisfied that such was not the philosophy I 
needed, I bade him adieu. 

" Hearing of a Pythagorean of very great reputation, I ap- 
plied to him. He also had a very exalted opinion of his own 
wisdom. When I informed him that I wished to become one 
of his disciples, 'Very well/ said he to me : 'have you studied 
music, astronomy, and geometry ? or do you think it possible 
that you can understand any thing of that which leads to 



MARTYRDOM. 257 

bliss without having mastered those sciences which disengage 
the soul from sensible objects, rendering it a fit habitation for 
the intelligences, and placing it in a condition to contemplate 
goodness and beauty ? \ 

"As I confessed that I had not studied those sciences, he 
dismissed me ; for he deemed them necessary. 

" One can judge how great were my sufferings in seeing my 
hopes thus frustrated. My grief was the more keen, since I 
really did suppose he knew something ; but, as it would re- 
quire a long time for me to perfect myself in those branches, 
I could not submit to the delay. I then determined to seek 
the instruction of the Platonists. There was a philosopher of 
that sect in our city, highly distinguished. I had many con- 
versations with him, and profited much by them. It afforded 
me great pleasure to become acquainted with incorporeal 
things. The consideration of ideas elevated my spirit as upon 
the wings of an eagle. Thus I thought that in a very short 
time I should -become wise. I even conceived the foolish 
hope that I should soon see God. This frame of mind led me 
to seek solitude." 

Justin then goes on to narrate, that one day he was walk- 
ing by the shore of the sea, absorbed in thought, when he 
saw a venerable man approaching him. The dignified bearing 
of the stranger, and the remarkable serenity and sweetness of 
his countenance, arrested his attention. They entered into 
conversation. The stranger proved to be a Christian, a man 
of remarkable intelligence, who understood the vain systems 
of the philosophers as well as the gross absurdities of the 
popular idolatry. He unfolded to Justin the religion of Jesus. 
The young man was deeply impressed with the revelation thus 
made to him. As he contemplated the idea of one God, the 
Creator of all things ; of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, coming 
to the world to make atonement for sin ; of immortality ; of 
the elevation of the soul to eternal happiness in heaven 
through penitence, the abandonment of sin, and the prayer- 
ful and persevering endeavor in thought and word and deed 
to live a holy life, — the earnest spirit of Justin bowed to the 
17 



258 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

majesty of truth. He became a devoted Christian. The sim- 
ple preaching of the cross of Christ, which many of the Greek 
philosophers regarded as foolishness, became to Justin, as it 
has to many others, " the wisdom of God and the power of 
God unto salvation." 

Justin, by his self-denying devotion,, soon became conspicu- 
ous in all the churches. He wrote an apology in behalf of the 
Christians. This treatise, which would do honor to any pen 
in the nineteenth century, was addressed "To the Emperor 
Antoninus, his two sons, the Roman senate, and all the Ro- 
man people." Very lucidly he stated the essential doctrines 
of Christianity, and the nature of the evidence upon which the 
religion was founded. With resistless force of argument he 
refuted the calumnies with which the Christians were assailed, 
showing that their hopes of eternal happiness were all forfeited 
if they allowed themselves in any known sin. He dwelt upon 
the injustice of condemning Christians for their name alone. 
He made it perfectly clear to the humblest intelligence, that, 
when the Christians spoke of the kingdom of Christ, they had 
reference, not to an earthly, but to a spiritual kingdom. He 
stated the nature and design of the sacraments, — of baptism 
and the Lord's supper. 

Justin closed his apology with the following forcible 
words : — 

" If you find Christianity to be reasonable, respect it : but 
do not condemn to death, simply because they are Christians, 
those who have committed no crime ; for we declare to you, 
that you cannot escape the judgment of God if you persist in 
such wickedness. As for us, we only say, ( The will of God be 
done. 7 We might demand justice of you in virtue of the decree 
of your illustrious father Adrian ; but we have preferred to rest 
our cause upon the justice of our demands." 

This admirable treatise, calmly written with great force of 
language and cogency of argument, must have exerted a very 
powerful influence. Still popular prejudice is seldom removed 
by argument. Though here and there many leading minds 
were led to regard Christianity with more favor, still the malice 



MARTYRDOM. 259 

of the ignorant and brutal masses, who were ever orying, " To 
the lions with the Christians ! " remained unchanged. 

Justin was at Rome when he wrote this apology. Soon 
after, he left Home, and retired to Ephesus. 

Upon the death of Antoninus, whose reign of twenty-two 
years was an uneventful one, Marcus Aurelius ascended the 
throne. For some unexplained reason, the new emperor com- 
menced his reign with very unfriendly feelings towards the 
Christians. Though he issued no decree of persecution, yet 
he afforded the disciples no protection : they were left to be 
maltreated by the brutal populace, and often to be condemned 
to torture and death by the angry and unprincipled governors 
of distant provinces. In the seventh year of the reign of 
Marcus Aurelius, a very terrible persecution of the Christians 
sprang up in Smyrna and its environs. The emperor re- 
mained silent in his palace while the Christians were scourged 
to death, burnt at the stake, or thrown to wild beasts. It is 
said that these martyrs were so wonderfully sustained by 
supernatural power, that, in their hours of most dreadful 
anguish, not a groan escaped their lips. 

It will be remembered that the venerable Polycarp was 
bishop of the church in Smyrna. Through the urgency of his 
friends he was induced to leave the city, to seek a retreat in 
the country. The mob clamored for his blood : they pursued 
him. Two boys were found, who, as they supposed, knew of 
the place of his concealment. These merciless men placed the 
boys upon the rack. In their unendurable agony, they told 
where Polycarp was to be found. A band of soldiers, thor- 
oughly armed, hastened to seize him. It was late on Friday 
night, and the bishop was calmly sleeping in his chamber. 
Aroused by the noise of their entrance, he descended to meet 
them, greeted them kindly, and ordered refreshments to be set 
before them. He then asked of them the favor to grant him 
one hour for prayer. The soldiers, impressed by his venerable 
appearance and kindly spirit, could not refuse his request. At 
the close of this season of devotion they placed him upon an 
ass ; and conducted him to the city. 



260 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The sun of Saturday morning had risen as they entered 
the streets of Smyrna. Many of the pagans who had long 
known Polycarp, and who appreciated the nobleness of his 
character, entreated him simply to say, " Lord Caesar," to offer 
sacrifice to the idols, and thus to be saved. He meekly replied, 
" I cannot follow your advice." They were so exasperated by 
what they considered his irrational stubbornness, that they 
not only overwhelmed him with reproaches, but treated him 
with personal abuse. 

He was brought before the tribunal of the pro-consul Philip, 
who seemed to wish to save the venerable old man. He said 
to Polycarp, " If you will only swear by Caesar, and reproach 
Christ, I will immediately release 3~ou." 

Polycarp replied, " Eighty and six years have I served 
Christ, and he hath never wronged me. How can I now blas- 
pheme my King, who hath saved me ? I am a Christian. If 
you desire to learn the Christian doctrine, assign me a day, 
and I will declare it to you." 

The pro-consul said, "I have the beasts, and will expose you 
to them if you do not yield." 

Polycarp replied, "Let them come. I cannot change from 
good to bad j but it is well to pass from these sufferings to the 
realms of justice." 

" If you have no fear of the beasts," the pro-consul replied, 
" I will bind you to the stake, and consume you with fire, 
unless you yield." 

" You threaten me," said Polycarp, " with fire, which burns 
but for a time, and is soon extinguished ; but you are ignorant 
of the future judgment, and of the fire eternal which is 
reserved for the impious." 

The pro-consul was astonished at his firmness. Still he 
sent his herald into the amphitheatre to proclaim to the eager 
throng awaiting the cruel spectacle of the martyrdom that 
Polycarp had confessed himself a Christian. With loud and 
angry shouts, the populace declared that he was the father of 
the Christians ; that it was he who had induced so many to 
abandon the temples of the gods. With one voice they de- 
manded that he should be thrown to the lions. 



MARTYRDOM. 261 

Philip refused, saying that the spectacles of the wild beasts 
were finished. They then raised the deafening cry, that he 
should be burned at the stake. Immediately they ran to the 
workshops around to gather fuel. It was observed that the 
Jews were as eager as the pagans at this work. While they 
were rearing the funeral-pile, Polycarp turned to the few 
friends who had ventured to gather around him, and said to 
them with a smile (for he rather courted than dreaded martyr- 
dom), " I am to be burned alive.'* 

The executioners deprived him of all his clothing, dragged 
him to the stake, and, while the populace were piling the fag- 
ots around him, prepared to fasten him to it ; but he said to 
them calruty, — 

" Leave me as I am. He who gives me fortitude to endure 
the fire will enable me to remain in the midst of the flames 
without being bound.'* 

These savage men, perhaps interested in witnessing the re- 
sult of such an experiment, consented. 

Polycarp then, raising his eyes to heaven, breathed aloud 
the following prayer : — 

" Lord G-od all-powerful, Father of Jesus Christ, thy blessed 
and well-beloved Son, through whom we have received grace 
to know thee, I thank thee that thou hast led me to this day 
and to this hour, in which I am to take part in the number of 
thy martyrs. May I this day be admitted into thy presence 
with them as an acceptable sacrifice, in accordance with that 
thou hast prepared, predicted, and fulfilled ! 

" Therefore I praise thee for all these things. I bless thee, 
I glorify thee, through the eternal and celestial High Priest, 
Jesus Christ, thy dear Son ; to whom be rendered glory, with 
thee and the Holy Spirit, now and through all future ages. 
Amen." 

The church in Smyrna wrote an account of the martyrdom 
of Polycarp, which is still extant, and which they sent to their 
brethren throughout the world.- The day of miracles had not 
yet passed. The church testifies to the following miraculous 
event which was witnessed at his death : — 



262 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

u When Polycarp had finished his prayer, and pronounced 
1 Amen J aloud, the officers lighted the fire : and, a great flame 
bursting out, we, to whom it was given to see, saw a wonder ; 
who also were reserved to relate to others that which had hap- 
pened. For the flame, forming the appearance of an arch as 
the sail of a vessel filled with wind, was a wall round about 
the body of the martyr ; and it was in the midst, not as 
burning flesh, but as gold and silver refined in a furnace. 
We received also in our nostrils such a fragrance, as of frank- 
incense or some other precious perfume ! At length, the impi- 
ous judges, observing that his body could not be consumed by 
fire, ordered the executioner to approach, and plunge his sword 
into his body. Upon this a quantity of blood gushed out, so 
that the fire was extinguished, and all the multitude were 
astonished." 

The dead body was then placed upon the funeral-pile, and 
burned. The friends of the martyr were then permitted to 
collect the charred bones, and give them Christian burial. 

The Roman empire was beginning to be assailed with such 
ferocity by the surrounding barbarians, that Marcus Aurelius 
found it necessary to enlist Christians in the army. He formed 
a brigade of six thousand of these persecuted disciples of 
Jesus, and incorporated them with one of the Roman legions. 
God endowed these soldiers with such bravery, and enabled 
them to win such victories, as called forth the admiration both 
of the emperor and the army. 

After a decisive battle, in which God seemed miraculously 
to have interposed in behalf of the Christian legion, Aurelius 
issued a decree, declaring that the Christians should no longer 
be persecuted, but should be entitled to all the rights and privi- 
leges belonging to other subjects of Rome. 



CHAPTER XII. 



PAGAN ROME. 




Infamy of Commodus. — His Death. — The Reign of Pertinax. — The Mob of Sol- 
diers. — Death of Pertinax. — Julian purchases the Crown. — Rival Claim- 
ants. — Severus. — Persecutions. — Martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicitas. — The 
Reign of Caracalla. — Fiendlike Atrocities. — Elagabalus, Priest of the Sun.— 
Death by the Mob. — Alexander and his Christian Mother. — Contrast between 
Paganism and Christianity. — The Sin of Unbelief. 



FTER a stormy reign of twenty-three years, the 
Emperor Aurelius died, and his son Commodus, 
nineteen years of age, succeeded to the throne. 
He was a demon. His atrocities I must not 
describe : nothing can he imagined, in the way of 
loathsome, brutal, nendlike vice, of which he was 
not guilty. A foul pagan, he filled the palaces 
of Rome with all the atrocities of iniquity. 

He murdered one of his own sisters, and worse than mur- 
dered the rest. He amused himself in cutting off the lips 
and noses of those who incurred his displeasure. The rich he 
slew, to get their money ; the virtuous, because their example 
reproved his vices ; the influential, fearing lest they should 
attain too much power. 

Under Commodus, the Christians were not exposed to gov- 
ernmental persecution, though there were occasional acts of 
the grossest outrage. One of his female favorites, who had 
great influence over him, hecame their protector. Conversions 
were rapidly multiplied. Many of the most noble and opulent 
in Rome embraced the Christian faith, which they could see 

263 



264 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

presented the only hope for this lost world. One of these very 
distinguished men, Apollonius, an accomplished scholar, pre- 
sented to the Eoman senate a very eloquent appeal in favor of 
Christianity. The senate demanded that he should retract his 
opinions. As he refused, he was sent to the block, and be- 
headed. 

The outrages Commodus was perpetrating, and the execu- 
tions lie was daily ordering, at length became intolerable. His 
aominal wife, the same Marcia who had protected the Christians, 
finding, from a memorandum which she picked from his pocket, 
that he had doomed her with several others to die, gave him 
a cup of poison. As he was reeling under the influence of 
the draught, an accomplice plunged a dagger into his heart, 
and " he went to his own place." " To his own place ! " Where 
was that place ? No one ca*n be familiar with the history of 
the awful crimes which have been perpetrated upon this globe, 
and not feel that there is necessity for justice and retribution 
beyond the grave. 

The joy in Borne was indescribable when the rumor spread 
through the thronged streets, on the morning of the 1st of 
January, 193, that the tyrant was dead. The senate* and army 
placed Pertinax, mayor of Rome, upon the vacant throne. He 
was, for a pagan, a good man. He found the nation with an 
empty treasury, and enormously in debt, and attempted to 
economize ; but the army demanded the wealth and luxury 
which could be obtained only by rapine. 

Commodus had accumulated a vast amount of gold and sil- 
ver plate ; chariots of most costly construction ; robes of impe- 
rial purple, heavily embroidered with gems and gold ; and last, 
but not least, he had seized, and crowded into his harem, six 
hundred of the most beautiful boys and girls. The plate, the 
chariots, the robes, and the handsome boys and beautiful girls, 
were all sold to the highest bidder. It is Christianity alone 
which recognizes the brotherhood of man. Pertinax, a pagan, 
could perhaps see no wrong in selling these young men and 
maidens into slavery. All the money thus infamously obtained 
was honestly paid into the exhausted treasury. 



PAGAN ROME. 265 

The army had loved Commodus. He allowed the soldiers 
unlimited license ; he filled their purses with gold ; he 
crowded their camp with male and female slaves. Pertinax 
wished to introduce reforms. The army hated Pertinax be- 
cause he was good, as devils hate angels. "Away with him ! " 
was the cry which resounded through the whole encampment. 

Three hundred burly wretches, from the encampment out- 
side the walls of Rome, marched to the palace. Deliberately 
they cut off the head of Pertinax. Parading it upon a lance, 
they, with shouts of triumph, marched back through the streets 
of Rome to their barracks. The citizens looked on in dismay : 
they dared not utter a word. The army was their master. 
A standing army and an unarmed people plh.ee any nation at 
the mercy of an ambitious general. 

Sixteen thousand soldiers, thoroughly trained, and heavily 
armed in steel coats of mail, were always quartered just out- 
side the gates of Rome. From their commanding encamp- 
ment on the broad summits of the Quirinal and Viminal Hills 
they held the millions of the Roman capital in subjection. 
The gory head of Pertinax was elevated upon a pike. The 
brutal soldiery gathered around it with yelk, and hootings, and 
offered the crown to the highest bidder. 

Julian, a vile demagogue; the richest man in Rome, offered 
a thousand dollars to each soldier, making sixteen millions of 
dollars. He could easily win back treble the sum by extortion 
and the plunder of war. The soldiers accepted the offer. Sur- 
rounding Julian, they marched in dense column into the city 
to the capitol, and compelled the senate to recognize him as 
emperor. There were sixteen thousand swords as so many 
indisputable arguments to enforce their demands. The senate, 
with the sword at its throat, obsequiously obeyed. The trem- 
bling populace was equally submissive. With apparently 
universal acclaim, Julian was proclaimed emperor. 

But there were other imperial armies besides the sixteen 
thousand which held Rome in awe. There was one in Greece 
of twenty thousand, one of twenty thousand in Britain, and 
one of thirty thousand in Syria. Each of these armies fol- 



266 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

lowed the example of the Pretorian Guard, as the army at 
Rome was called. Each chose an emperor from among, its 
generals. There were thus four rival emperors, each at the 
head of a powerful army. The arbitrament of bloody battle 
alone could decide who should hold the prize. 

The three distant armies commenced an impetuous march 
upon Julian at Eome. Severus from Greece was nearest. 
With giant strides he pressed forward, sweeping all opposition 
before him. As he drew near the camp of the Pretorian Guard, 
the soldiers, who had already received their thousand dollars 
each from Julian, coolly cut off Julian's head, and sent it to 
Severus. The two armies then fraternized under Severus, and 
took possession of Eome. 

Albinus was advancing with his twenty thousand men 
from Britain. Enormous bribes were sent to him by Severus ; 
and he gave in his adhesion to the successful general who 
was so formidably intrenched at Rome. Niger then, march- 
ing from Syria, was easily routed by the three combined ar- 
mies opposed to him. He was taken captive, and beheaded. 
Severus thus became emperor without a rival. In. commemo- 
ration of his victory, he reared in Rome a colossal triumphal 
arch, which remains to the present day. 

Severus was a thoroughly bad man ; and yet he protected 
the Christians. A physician who had embraced the new 
religion had saved the life of his child. Severus gratefully 
took him into the palace, and treated him with the utmost 
kindness. Though unwilling to regulate his own conduct 
by the religion of Jesus, he so far appreciated the excellence 
of Christianity as to appoint one of its advocates as teacher 
of his child. When the fury of the populace at Rome rose 
against the Christians, Severus interposed to shield them. 

But in remote parts of the empire, where the power of the 
crown was but feebly felt, persecution raged terribly. The 
father of the renowned Eusebius was beheaded : his property 
was confiscated, and his widow and children left utterly desti- 
tute. Eusebius, who was then but seventeen years of age, 
and a very earnest Christian, was so anxious to follow his 



PAGAN ROME. 267 

father to martyrdom, that his mother could with great diffi- 
culty restrain him. He lived to establish a reputation which 
has filled the world with his name. 

In Africa, also, the persecution was violent. In Carthage, 
twelve Christians at one time were brought before the pro- 
consul, three of whom were females. They refused to abjure 
their faith, and were condemned to be beheaded. We have a 
minute account of the trial, — the questions and their answers. 
Upon being condemned to death simply for being Chris- 
tians, they knelt together, and thanked God that they were 
honored with the crown of martyrdom. Joyfully each one re- 
ceived the death-blow. It was at this time, and at Carthage, 
that Tertullian wrote his world-renowned apology for Chris- 
tianity. It was so eloquent in its rhetoric, and so convincing 
in its logic, that it exerted a very powerful influence over all 
thoughtful minds. 

The martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicitas at Carthage was 
one of the memorable events of this persecution. Perpetua 
was a Roman lady of exalted birth, and highly educated, who 
had become a Christian. Felicitas was a young Christian 
bride, about to become a mother. The parents of Perpetua 
were pagans, and also her two brothers. She was but twenty- 
two years of age, recently married, and had an infant child. 

She was arrested, and thrown into prison. Her aged father, 
who loved Perpetua tenderly, prostrated himself upon his knees 
before his daughter, and, with tears gushing from his eyes, 
entreated her to save her life by sacrificing to the gods. 
She remained firm. The high social position of the captive 
caused a large crowd to be assembled at the trial. Her father 
came, bringing to the court her babe, and entreating Perpetua, 
for the sake of her child, to save her life. He hoped that the 
sight of her child would cause her to relent, and renounce 
Jesus. The public prosecutor, Hilarien, then said to her, — 

" In mercy to your aged father, in mercy to your babe, 
throw not away your life, but sacrifice to the gods." 

"I am a Christian," she replied, " and cannot deny Christ." 
The anguish of her father was so great, that he was unable to 



268 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

restrain loud expressions of grief; and the brutal soldiers 
drove him off with cruel blows. "I felt the blows," says 
Perpetua in a brief memorial which she left of her trials, 
" as if they had fallen on myself." Perpetua was then con- 
demned to be torn to pieces by wild beasts. 

"When the day for the spectacle arrived," says Perpetua, 
"my father threw himself on the ground, tore his beard, 
cursed the day in which he was born, and uttered piercing 
cries which were sufficient to move the hardest heart." 

Both Perpetua and Eelicitas were doomed to the same 
death. The two victims were led into the arena of the vast 
amphitheatre, where, with the utmost ingenuity of cruelty, 
they were to be gored to death by bulls. The rising seats 
which surrounded the amphitheatre were crowded with spec- 
tators to enjoy the spectacle. 

Let us, in imagination, descend into the dark, damp dun- 
geons opening into the arena. Here in this den are growl- 
ing lions, gaunt and fierce ; and here is a den of panthers 
with glaring eyeballs. They have been kept starved for 
many days to make them furious. Here in this cell of stone 
and iron, which the glare of the torch but feebly illumines, is 
a band of Christians, — fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. 
They are to be thrown to-morrow into the arena naked, that 
they may be torn to pieces by the panthers and the lions, and 
that the hundred thousand pagan spectators may enjoy the 
sport of seeing them torn limb from limb, and devoured by 
the fierce and starved beasts. 

In one of these cells Perpetua and Felicitas were confined. 
In another were several wild bulls. It was a glorious sum- 
mer's day, and the cloudless sun shone down upon the amphi- 
theatre, over which a silken awning was spread, and which was 
crowded with many thousands of spectators. Here were con- 
gregated all the wealth and beauty and fashion of the city, — 
vestal virgins, pontiffs, ambassadors, senators, and, in the 
loftiest tier, a countless throng of slaves. Carthaginian ladies, 
affecting the utmost delicacy and refinement, vied with men in 
the eagerness with which they watched the bloody scenes. 




"PERPETUA WAS FIRST BROUGHT INTO THE ARENA. 



PAGAN ROMS. 263 

In the centre of the arena there was suspended a large net- 
work bag of strong fine twine, with interstices so large as to 
afford no covering or veil whatever to the person. Perpetua. 
was first brought into the arena, young and beautiful, a pure 
and modest Christian lady. She was led forth entirely divested 
of her clothing, that to the bitterness of martyrdom might be 
added the pangs of wounded modesty. A hundred thousand 
voices assailed her with insult and derision. Brutal soldiers 
placed her in the transparent network. There she hung in 
mid-air, but two feet from the ground, as if floating in space. 
Then the burly executioners gave her a swing with their 
brawny arms, whirling her in a wide circle around the sxena, 
and retired. 

An iron door creaks upon its hinges, and flies open. Out 
from the dungeon leaps the. bull, with flaming eyes, tail in 
air, bellowing, and pawing the sand in rage. He glares 
around for an instant upon the shouting thousands, and then 
catches a view of the maiden swinging before him. With a 
bound he plunges upon her, and buries his horns in her side. 
The blood gushes forth, and she is tossed ten feet in the air ; 
while the shrieks of the tortured victim are lost in the hun- 
dred thousand shouts of joy. 

This scene cannot be described : it can hardly be imagined. 
Lunge after lunge the bull plunges upon liis victim, piercing, 
tossing, tearing, mangling, till the sand of the arena is 
drenched with the blood of the victim ; until her body swings 
around, a lifeless, mangled mass, having lost all semblance of 
humanity. Felicitas in the mean time is compelled to gaze 
upon the scene, that she may taste twice the bitterness of 
death. In her turn she is placed in the suspended network, 
and in the same fiery chariot of martyrdom ascends to heaven. 

Several other Christians perished at the same time, being 
torn by wild beasts, - and devoured by half-famished bears, 
leopards, and wild boars. Pages might be filled with similar 
accounts ; but this record must be brief. 

The Emperor Severus died on an expedition to Britain, in 
the year of our Lord 211, leaving the crown to his two sons* 



270 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Caracalla and Geta. They were both thoroughly depraved 
boys. Caracalla, the elder, invited his brother Geta to meet 
him in the presence of his mother to confer upon the division 
of the empire. During the conference, Caracalla drew near 
his brother, and, taking a dagger from beneath his dress, 
buried it to the hilt in Geta's heart. . The murdered boy 
sprang into his mother's arms, and died, she being deluged 
with the blood of her son. This was early in the third cen- 
tury, when pagan Rome was at the summit of its wealth, 
refinement, luxury, and power. The murderer of Geta thus 
became sole emperor of Borne, 

Christianity was beginning to create a public conscience. 
It was throwing the light of future judgment and final retribu- 
tion upon such hideous crimes. Both of these young men, 
depraved though they were, had received some religious in- 
struction. The stings of remorse imbittered every remaining 
hour of Caracalla's life. The image of his brother Geta, 
gasping, shrieking, dying, bathed in blood, in the arms of his 
terrified mother, pursued the murderer to his grave: but it 
did not soften his heart ; it only hardened him in sin, and 
inflamed his soul with almost insane jealousy and fear. Every 
individual who was supposed to be in the interest of Geta 
was put to death, without regard to age or sex. In the course 
of a few months, twenty thousand perished by this wholesale 
proscription. 

A wag in one of the schools in Alexandria wrote a burlesque 
verse upon Caracalla. The tyrant, in consequence, ordered the 
whole city to be destroyed. Every man, woman, and child 
was ordered to be put to death. A few only of the young and 
beautiful were reserved as slaves. 

The only way in this world to be happy is to strive to pro- 
mote the happiness of others. He who makes others wretched 
is always wretched himself. Caracalla lived the life of a 
demon, filling the world with woe ; but, in all the empire, there 
was scarcely to be found a greater wretch than he. 

One of his generals, Macrinus, who had displeased the em- 
peror, learning that he was doomed to death, engaged a cen- 



PAGAN ROME. 271 

turion, a man of herculean strength, to assassinate him. A 
dagger through the back pierced the heart of the tyrant. 
Thus terminated the diabolical sway of Caracalla, with which 
God had allowed the world to be cursed for six years. 

The army had adored Caracalla ; for he had given free rein 
to the license of the soldiers, and had enriched them by plun- 
der. Macrinus, the assassin, was not illustrious either by 
birth, wealth, or military exploits. The soldiers reluctantly, 
and with many murmurs, submitted to the decision of the 
senate recognizing him as emperor. The army was encamped 
in winter quarters in Syria. Macrinus, exulting in new-born 
dignity, was luxuriating in his palace at Antioch. Under 
these circumstances, a Syrian soldier, by the name of Elagaba- 
lus, a reckless, unprincipled man, formed a conspiracy in the 
camp outside the walls of Antioch. He assumed that he was 
a son of one of the concubines of Caracalla. The soldiers, 
eager for the renewal of their former privileges of plunder and 
outrage, enthusiastically rallied around the banner of the in- 
surgent general. There was one short battle. Macrinus was 
slain, and the troops with one accord welcomed Elagabalus as 
emperor. The senate, not daring to present opposition to the 
army, obsequiously confirmed its vote. 

This rude, untamed pagan was a worshipper of the sun. He 
had been a high priest in one of the idol temples. With his 
army enlarged by brutal hordes from the East, he marched 
upon Eome in the double capacity of pagan pontiff and em- 
peror. He was arrayed in sacerdotal robes of damask em- 
broidered with gold. A gorgeous tiara was upon his brow ; 
and he wore bracelets and a necklace incrusted with priceless 
gems. The city pavements over which he passed were sprinkled 
with gold-dust. Six milk-white horses, sumptuously capari- 
soned, drew a chariot containing a black stone, the symbol of 
the god he worshipped. Elagabalus, as pontiff, held the reins 
with his back to the horses, that his eyes might not be for a 
moment turned from the object of his idolatry. 

A new temple was reared for this new idol on the Palatine 
Hill. Its worship was introduced with splendor such as Eome 



212 HISTORY OF CBRISTIANlTt. 

had never yet witnessed. Syrian girls of great beauty danced 
around the altar. Elagabalus, with his crowd of adorers of 
the new divinity, rioted in those dissolute rites, which even the 
pen of a Roman historian shrinks from recording. 

The palaces of the Caesars had been as corrupt as Europe 
knew how to make them ; but Elagabalus transported to 
them all the additional vices of Asia. Modern civilization will 
not allow the story of his infamy to be told : the enlighten- 
ment of the nineteenth century could not bear the recital. 
The change which Christianity has introduced into the world 
is so great, that there is not a court in Europe now, no matter 
how corrupt, which would endure for a day a Nero or an Ela- 
gabalus. 

Even pagan Rome could not long submit to so unmitigated 
a wretch. There was mutiny in the camp. Elagabalus was 
cut down in the fray. A mob of soldiers, with infuriate yells, 
dragged the corp&e by the heels through the streets, and cast 
the mangled, gory mass into the Tiber. The senate passed a 
decree consigning his name to eternal infamy. Posterity has 
ratified that decree. 

There are those, it is said, who believe that there is no pun- 
ishment after death ; that all the dead go at once to heaven. 
Strange must be ihe philosophy, and stranger still the theology, 
which can contemplate Elagabalus welcomed at the golden 
gates, angels crowding to meet him, while God, with beaming 
countenance, exclaims, " Well done, good and faithful servant ! 
enter thou into ihe joy of thy Lord." 

The PretoriaD Guard of sixteen thousand mailed and vet- 
eran soldiers, whose encampment was just outside the walls of 
Home, took a nephew of Elagabalus, — Alexander Severus, a 
boy of but seventeen years of age, — and made him emperor. 
Two reasons influenced them : first, he was available ; second, 
he was young, and they thought they could mould him at their 
will. 

And now again we get a gleam of Christian light upon this 
dark scene, — a gleam of that Christian influence which enno- 
bles statesmanship, purifies morals, and promotes every virtue ; 



PAGAN ROME. 273 

that sublime Christian principle, which requires, that whether 
we eat or drink, or whatever we do, we do all to the glory of 
God. 

The mother of young Alexander was a Christian. Never 
was the maxim more beautifully illustrated, that blessed is the 
boy who has a pious mother. This noble woman, notwith- 
standing all the unspeakable corruptions which surrounded her, 
had trained her child in the faith and morals of Jesus. Like 
a guardian angel, she had watched over her son amidst all the 
temptations of the palace. 

Alexander, upon ascending the throne, in the very palace 
where Elagabalus had so recently practised his pagan orgies, 
habitually rose at an early hour, and upon his bended knees 
implored God's guidance. He then held a cabinet council, 
aided by sixteen of the most virtuous senators. The affairs 
of state were carefully discussed, efforts being made to redress 
every wrong. 

A few hours were then set apart for study, that he might, by 
intellectual culture, be better prepared for his responsible situ- 
ation. He then practised for a time at the gymnasium for the 
promotion of his bodily vigor. After lunch, he received peti- 
tions and dictated replies till supper, at six, which was the 
principal meal of the day. Guests of distinction were always 
invited to sup with him. His table was frugal, his dress sim- 
ple, his morals were pure, his manners polished and courtly. 
He adopted for his motto the golden maxim of Jesus our Lord : 
" As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them 
likewise." x It was then fresh and new. Few even of those 
who admired the sentiment knew that it was Jesus who had 
giren it its emphatic announcement. 

When Severus appointed a governor of a province, he first 
publicly propounded his name, that, if there were any disquali- 
fication, it might be mentioned. " It is thus," he said, " the 
Christians appoint their pastors : I will do the same with my 
representatives." 

And yet, strange as it may seem, Alexander Severus does 

» Luke vi. 31. 
18 



274 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

not seem to have been a true Christian. He was simply like 
many upright, high-minded, honorable young men now, who 
assent to Christianity, are measurably governed by its morals, 
but are not in heart disciples of Jesus. 

Alexander was deficient in moral courage : he wished to 
compromise. While he professed belief in Jesus, he professed 
also belief in the Roman gods. He wished to build a temple 
in Borne, to be dedicated to Jesus Christ, for Christian wor- 
ship ; but the oracles told him, that, if he did this, everybody 
would become Christian, and the temples of the gods would be 
abandoned. He therefore desisted. Still, throughout his reign, 
Christians were protected so far as he could protect them ; but, 
in remote sections of the empire, Christians often suffered ter- 
ribly from the malice of pagan magistrates, and from the 
brutality of the mob. 

The reforms of justice and mercy which Alexander Severus 
was introducing into the empire were hateful to the soldiers. 
They wished to give free range to their appetites and passions, 
and to riot in plunder. A mutiny was excited in the camp 
against him. In a paroxysm of rage, the Pretorian Guard, 
sixteen thousand strong, marched into the city, breathing 
threatenings and slaughter. For three days and three nights, 
a terrible battle raged in the streets of Rome. There was a 
wasting conflagration, and multitudes were slain. The city 
was menaced with total destruction. And all this because a 
virtuous emperor wished to protect the innocent, and to restrain 
the wicked from crime ! 

A kind Providence gave Alexander the victory. The insur- 
gents were driven back to their camp. Still they were too 
powerful to be punished. The whole reign of Severus was 
harassed and imbittered by the outrages of this licentious 
soldiery. 

We have now come down in our narrative to the middle of 
the third century. The Romans were a very powerful, and m 
many respects a highly-cultivated people. Their literature 
has excited the admiration of the world. It is still studied in 
the highest seats of learning. Their paganism was the best 



PAGAN- ROME. 275 

winch the world has ever known. We have presented in im- 
partial contrast the practical workings of the religion of Rome 
and the religion of Jesus Christ. Every thoughtful reader 
must he impressed with the wonderful, the divine superiority 
of Christianity. It must he manifest to every reflective mind, 
that, in the religion of Jesus Christ, we find the only hope for 
our lost world. That religion is not a religion of dead doctrines 
and pompous ceremonies, hut one of a living faith and a holy 
life. 

" Do right," says Christianity, — "right to God "by loving him 
and worshipping him as your heavenly Father ; right to your- 
self hy cultivating in your own heart every thing that is pure, 
lovely, and of good report ; right to your fellow-man, regard- 
ing him as your brother, and doing every thing in your power 
to elevate him, purify him, and prepare him for heaven. Your 
past sins may all he forgiven. Christ has died upon the cross, 
and made atonement for them. Penitence for sin, trust in an 
atoning Saviour, and the earnest, prayerful return to a holy 
life, will open to you the gates of heaven." This is Christian- 
ity. It needs not the enforcement of labored argument : it is 
its own best witness. " He that believeth on the Son of God 
hath the witness in himself." 1 

It not unfrequently happens that a young man gets the im- 
pression that there is something a little distinguished in being 
an unbeliever. He assumes the air of a sceptic, and takes the 
ground that Christianity is the religion of weak minds ; that 
the reason why he does not believe is, that he has more intelli- 
gence and knowledge than those people who believe. 

Should there chance to be such a one who reads these pages, 
I would ask him, How do you account for the fact that the most 
intelligent men in the world have been Christians ? "Were 
Bacon and Boyle, Sir Matthew Hale and Herschel, men whose 
intellectual renown has filled centuries, weak-minded men ? — ■ 
and yet they were Christians. Was Napoleon Bonaparte a 
man of feeble intellect ? — yet he said at St. Helena, — 

"The loftiest intellects since the advent of Christianity 
» 1 John v. 10 



276 HISTORY OF CmmTIANXTt. 

have had faith, a practical faith, in the mysteries and the doc- 
trines of the gospel ; not only Bossuet and Fenelon, who were 
preachers, but Descartes and Newtou, Leibnitz and Pascal, 
Corneille and Racine, Charlemagne and Louis XIV." Were 
Washington and Jackson, Clay and Lincoln, ignorant and weak 
men ? — they were Christians. Are the presidents in nearly 
all the colleges and universities of Christendom incapable of 
comprehending the force of argument ? — they are Christians. 

Was Daniel Webster a man of feeble powers of comprehen- 
sion, incapable of appreciating the force of an argument ? — he 
bears the following testimony to his faith in Christianity : — 

"Philosophical argument, especially that drawn from the 
vastness of the universe, compared with the apparent insignifi- 
cance of this globe, has sometimes shaken my reason for the 
faith that is in me ; but my heart has always assured and re- 
assured me that the gospel of Jesus Christ must be a divine 
reality. This belief enters into the very depths of my con- 
science. The whole history of man proves it." 

No : it is too late for any one to take the ground that Chris- 
tianity is the religion of ignorant men and weak women. God 
has given evidence sufficient to convince every candid mind. 
This evidence is so abundant, that God declares it a great sin 
not to believe. There is no crime more severely denounced in 
the Bible than that of unbelief. Perhaps you say, " I cannot 
believe without evidence ; " but God has given evidence suffi- 
cient to convert every heart which is not so wicked that it 
will not believe. 

Not to believe will surely bring condemnation at God's bar. 
To believe in Christianity, and yet not in heart to accept it, 
and not publicly to avow one's faith, is perhaps a greater sin. 
The declaration of our Saviour is positive, that he will not 
recognize at the judgment-day those who have not confessed 
him before men. 

There are undoubtedly those who have wickedly cherished a 
spirit of unbelief, until God, as a punishment, "has sent them 
strong delusion, that they should believe a lie." * 
i 2 Thess. ii. 11. 



PAGAN ROME. 277 

Tlie following incident affeetingly illustrates this truth. The 
writer, a few years ago, at the close of the afternoon's service 
in the church on a summer's day, was called upon in his study 
by a man of dignified person and manners, whose countenance 
and whole demeanor indicated superior intellectual culture. I 
had noticed him for one or two sabbaths in the church. His 
marked features, and his profound attention to the preaching, 
had awakened my interest. With much courtesy he apolo- 
gized for intruding upon my time, but expressed an earnest 
desire to have a little conversation with me. 

"I have," said he, "for several sabbaths, attended public 
worship in your church, and need not say that I have been in- 
terested in the preaching ; and you will probably be surprised 
to have me add, that I cannot believe the sentiments you advo- 
cate. I cannot believe that the Bible is a divine revelation, 
or that there is any- personal God. I am what you would 
probably call both an infidel and an atheist ; and I should 
be glad to give you a brief account of my history. 

" When a young man, I became interested in the writings 
of the French philosophers, — Voltaire, Helvetius, Diderot, and 
D'Alembert. I filled my library with their works, and perused 
them with eagerness. Their teachings I accepted. They 
were in harmony with my desires ; and I lived accordingly. 
Renouncing all faith in Christianity, in any other God than 
the powers of Nature, and in any future life, I surrendered 
myself unrestrained to the indulgence which those principles 
naturally inculcated. Thus I have lived. Christianity and 
its professors have ever been the subjects of my ridicule and 
contempt. 

" I still retain those principles. The arguments with 
which I have stored my mind, and upon which I have so 
long relied, appear to me invincible. I cannot believe that 
the Bible is any thing more than a human production. 
When I look upon the world, its confusion and misery, I 
can see no evidence that there is any God who takes an 
interest in the affairs of men. I see that the wrong is just 
as likely to triumph as the right. In the animal creation, 



278 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

there is, from the lowest to the highest, a regular gradation; 
and as they all, at birth, came from nothing, so, at death, into 
nothing they will vanish. 

" I have now passed my threescore years and ten. I have 
lost most of my property. My eyesight is rapidly failing. 
The companions of my youthful days are all gone. Most of 
my caildren are in the grave ; and I have no more expecta- 
tion of meeting them in another world than of meeting my 
faithful dog or my sagacious horse. I am aged, infirm, 
bereaved, and joyless. There is nothing in the retrospect 
of the past to give me pleasure : the present brings but 
weariness, gloom, and sadness : before me is the abyss of an- 
nihilation. 

" Now, could I only believe as you believe, — that there is a 
loving heavenly Father, who watches over his children ; that 
the trials of this life are intended to form our characters for 
endless happiness ; that beyond the grave there is immor- 
tality, happy realms where the sorrows of earth are never 
known ; that provision is made for the forgiveness of all 
my sins ; and that, after a few more days here, I could enter 
golden gates, and be forever in heaven with the loved ones 
who have gone before me, — I should indeed be the happiest 
man in the world. But I cannot believe it. There is no 
evidence sufficiently strong to remove my unbelief." 

Such was the confession of an unbeliever; and we know 
that such must be the moral condition of every man who 
is approaching the grave without the Christian's hope. How 
different from this was the testimony of Paul the Christian 
as he drew near the close of his noble life, even with th8 
pains of martyrdom opening before him ! He writes to Tim- 
othy, — 

"I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my de- 
parture is at hand. I have fought a good fight ; I have 
finished my course ; I have kept the faith : henceforth there 
is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, 
the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day ; and not to 
me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing." 



PAGAN ROME. 279 

I will simply say in conclusion, in reference to my unhappy 
friend, whom I could^ not but love, that though he would 
admit that there was a Power, which he called Nature, which 
had introduced him to this world, and would ere long remove 
him from it, no persuasions of mine could induce him to pray 
to that Power for light and guidance ; though he would, appar- 
ently with profoundest reverence, fall upon his knees at my 
side, and listen to my prayers to the Creator. 

Circumstances soon removed me several hundred miles from 
his dwelling. Whether he be living as I now write these 
lines with a tearful eye, I know not. A few years ago, after 
two years of absence, I met him. Sorrow had left unmistakable 
traces upon his marked features. As I took his hand, he ad- 
mitted that there were still no rays of light to gild the gloom 
of his pathway to the grave. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



SIN AND MISERY. 



Maximin the Goth. — Brutal Assassination of Alexander. — Merciless Proscrip- 
tion. — Revolt of the Army on the Danube. — Rage of Maximin. — His March 
upon Rome. — Consternation in the Capital. —Assassination of Maximin.— 
Successors to the Throne. — Popular Suffrage unavailing. — Persecution under 
Decius. — Individual Cases. — Extent of the Roman Empire. — Extent of the 
Persecution. — Heroism of the Christians. 



HE last chapter closed with the reign of Alexan- 
der Severus, in the year of our Lord 235. His 
mother being a Christian, her son, though still, 
for popularity's sake, supporting idolatry, was 
induced, out of respect to his mother, to ingraft 
upon the errors of paganism many of the noble 
teachings of Christianity. His death is asso- 
ciated with one of the most wild and wondrous of the tales of 
ancient times. 

Alexander Severus, or the Severe, as he was called, from his 
puritanic severity of morals, was returning with his army 
from a war expedition to the East. On the plains of Thrace 
he stopped to celebrate the birth of a son. In commemora- 
tion of the joyful event, there was a display of all the military 
pageants and gymnastic games then in vogue. 

The whole army, in gorgeous display, was drawn up on a 
spacious plain. Thousands of the neighboring people were 
assembled to witness the splendors of the fete. It was a cleai 
and beautiful morning. All eyes were riveted upon the 




SIN AND MISERY. 281 

emperor, as, followed by a magnificent retinue, he came gallop- 
ing upon the field. 

Suddenly there sprang from the crowd of spectators a 
gigantic barbarian, a Goth. With the speed of an antelope, he 
bounded to the side of the emperor's horse. Apparently with- 
out the slightest exertion, or the least loss of breath, he kept 
pace with the fleet Arabian charger, as, with almost the swift- 
ness of the wind, the magnificent steed careered over the plain. 
This brawny young savage was eight feet tall, and was as 
admirably proportioned as the colossal statue of the Apollo 
Belvedere. 

Giants have not generally much intellect ; but this young 
Goth had great activity and energy of mind. His courage 
resembled that of a ferocious wild beast. He could tire out a 
horse in a race. He could break tbe leg of a horse with a 
blow of his hand. He could throw successively, with appar- 
ently the greatest ease, thirty of the ablest wrestlers who 
could be brought against him. He demanded for his daily 
food forty pounds of meat and twelve quarts of wine. Extraor- 
dinary as these statements appear, they seem to be well au- 
thenticated. Such was the young barbarian, who, rollicking, 
leaping, and gambolling around the emperor, attracted the 
attention of the vast crowd of soldiers and spectators who 
were spread over the plain. 

Soon the games were introduced on the model of the world- 
renowned Olympic games of Greece. They consisted of all 
athletic sports of leaping, wrestling, boxing. This young 
Goth, Maximin by name, distanced all competitors. Sixteen 
of the stoutest wrestlers were brought forward to contend 
against him. Almost without exertion, he laid them, one after 
another, upon their backs. 

Gunpowder has equalized strength. A small man can pull 
a trigger as well as a large one. The bullet shot from a rifle 
will accomplish equal execution, let the rifle be held by a dwarf 
or a giant. But in those days, before the invention of gun- 
powder, when men fought with clubs and battle-axes, with 
massive swords and heavy cross-bows, agility and strength were 
essential to the successful warrior. 



282 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The emperor gazed upon the feats of Maximin with aston- 
ishment and admiration. The giant was an unmitigated bar- 
barian, whose father was a Goth, and whose mother was from 
a still more savage tribe, called the Alani. The emperor took 
Maximin into his service, loaded him with honors, and rapidly 
promoted him from post to post in the army, until he became 
one of the highest generals. The Roman soldiers, accustomed 
to do homage to the military prowess of muscles and sinews, 
regarded Maximin with great veneration. 

Alexander had taken with him his Christian mother. She 
had great influence over her son. A very sumptuous tent was 
provided for her, which was always pitched in the middle of 
the camp. This ungrateful Goth, Maximin, conspired against 
his benefactor. "Why," said he, "should a Roman army be 
subject to an effeminate Syrian, the slave of his mother ? Sol- 
diers should be governed by soldiers ; by one reared in the 
camp ; by one who knows how to distribute among his com- 
rades the treasures of the empire." 

By these means a mutiny was excited. The mutineers 
rushed upon Alexander, beat him down with their clubs, and 
hewed him to pieces with their battle-axes. With hideous 
clamor, the army proclaimed Maximin their emperor. This 
assassination of Alexander, and enthronement of the barbarian 
Goth, took place on the 19th of March, A.D. 235. 

Maximin, invested with the imperial purple, wa3 ashamed 
of his low origin, of his ignoble birth. He endeavored to put 
every one to death who knew him when he was an untamed sav- 
age. Four thousand were. thus handed over to the assassin and 
the executioner. Conscious of his low breeding, his ignorance, 
and his ungainly address, he would not allow any person of 
cultivated mind or polished manners to appear in his presence, 
lest others should notice the contrast. He did not live in the 
gorgeous saloons of the palace, surrounded by a splendid court, 
where he would not be at home, and where he knew not how 
to behave, but remained in the camp, surrounded by soldiers 
who were ever ready to obey his most ferocious bidding. He 
avoided every thing which could bring him too broadly in con- 
trast with metropolitan refinement. 



SIX AND MISERY. 283 

This cruel despot was very ingenious in devising modes of 
torture for those whom he even suspected of being unfriendly 
to him. There was no form of cruel death to which he did not 
resort to avenge himself upon his enemies. Maximin was in- 
satiate in his grasping for wealth. He even robbed idolatrous 
temples, and melted down into coin the exquisite statues of 
gold and silver. He hated Christianity, and ordered the 
churches to be burned, and the pastors and officers of the 
churches to be put to death. This persecution was short in 
its duration, tart terrible while it lasted. Maximin reigned 
thirteen years. It seems short, as we look back upon that 
period through the lapse of fifteen centuries ; but it must have 
been awful for Christians to have endured thirteen years of 
bloody persecution under such a monster. 

There occurred several disastrous earthquakes during his 
reign. He attributed them to the displeasure of the gods, in 
consequence of the Christians forsaking the idols. Thus the 
fanatic fury of the mob, as well as the cruel energies of the 
governmental arm, were turned against the disciples of Jesus. 
The mob pursued all Christians with the most cruel and re- 
volting outrages, and their vilest atrocities were sustained and 
encouraged by the government. Such was the persecution 
which raged nearly sixteen hundred years ago, and is now 
nearly forgotten ; indeed, many are not aware that it ever 
existed. 

Maximin was with his army on the banks of the Danube. 
He rewarded his soldiers abundantly with license and plunder. 
There was another Eoman army in Africa. The soldiers there 
rose in revolt against Maximin. They chose Gordian, gov- 
ernor of the province, emperor. He was a wealthy Roman 
gentleman, eighty years of age. A son of his was to share 
with his father the cares of empire. 

But Maximin was not to be trifled with. Raging like a 
wild beast, and gnashing his teeth with fury, he put his army 
on a rapid march for Africa. In one bloody battle the troops 
of Gordian were almost annihilated. The son was slain in 
battle : the father in despair committed suicide, 



284 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The senate in Rome, detesting Maximin, the brutal bar* 
barian monster, had ventured to espouse the cause of Gor- 
dian. The maddened Maximin turned his march towards 
Rome. The powerless senate was in utter dismay. Not 
only confiscation and death awaited them and their families, 
but death in its most cruel form. The whole city was agi- 
tated with terror. 

There was every reason to fear that the barbarian, with, 
his demoniac soldiery, marching beneath the blood-red banner 
of plunder and slaughter, would put the inhabitants to the 
sword, and commit the city to the flames. It was the custom- 
ary vengeance for conquerors in those days to burn every 
dwelling of their foes, and to put every man, woman, and child 
to death, excepting a few of the young and beautiful, who 
were reserved to groom their horses, and to fill their harems. 

The senate, in terror, made desperate efforts to meet the 
emergency. The populace of Rome were aware of their dan- 
ger. A new army was very quickly raised. Two emperors 
were chosen : one, a wealthy Roman noble, by the name of 
Balbinus, was to remain at Rome, and attend to the civil ad- 
ministration there ; the other, Maximus, a brave and veteran 
soldier, was placed in command of the army, which consisted 
of the Pretorian Guard of sixteen thousand men, encamped 
just outside the walls of Rome, and such recruits as could be 
added to them. 

Maximin, almost literally roaring with rage, was pressing 
forward by forced marches. Plunder, slaughter, and smoul- 
dering ruins, marked his path. He had crossed the Julian 
Alps. The wretched inhabitants fled before him. But at 
length his atrocities created a mutiny among his own soldiers. 
A fiendlike band rushed into his tent, pierced him through 
and through with their javelins, cut off his head, and, with 
derision and insult, paraded it on a pike through the camp. 

All Rome rang with shouts of joy, and blazed with illumi- 
nations, when it was reported that the tyrant was dead. But 
anarchy ensued. The soldiery, composed principally of the 
most desperate vagabonds of the city, were not disposed ig 



SIN AND MISERt. 285 

accept an emperor elected by the senate. Conscious of their 
power, they resolved to place one of their own favorites upon 
the imperial throne. 

In a resistless, organized mob, they strode into the city in 
solid battalions, battered down the doors of the palace where 
the two emperors were in council, pierced them with a thou- 
sand spears, dragged their mangled bodies, by ropes tied to 
their heels, with hideous yells through the streets, and threw 
the gory remains into a ditch, to be devoured by dogs. In six 
months, five li-oman emperors had thus perished by violence. 
Think how vast the change which the teachings of Jesus 
have introduced, refining manners, giving laws, purifying 
morals ! 

When we reflect upon such scenes, it is impossible to deny 
that the teachings of Jesus have wrought the most aston- 
ishing and salutary changes in the world. It is not too much 
to say,, that pagan Home in its palmiest days was far below 
Christian Borne in its greatest degeneracy. Christianity has 
introduced refinement of manners, more equitable laws, and 
morals immeasurably superior to any thing which existed 
around the shrines of idolatry. And yet these are only the 
incidental blessings, over and above the salvation of the souls 
of those who became spiritually the disciples of Jesus, ac- 
cepted him as their Saviour, and who brought their hearts and 
lives into sympathy with his teachings. There were millions 
of such, who are now in the realms of glory, of whom history 
made no record. 

The soldiers took a boy thirteen years of age, and, bearing 
him triumphantly to the camp, jocosely made him emperor. 
The senate, with sixteen thousand swords at its throat, was 
compelled to ratify their choice. Soon, however, an ambitious 
general, named Philip, poisoned the boy, and induced the 
soldiers to proclaim himself emperor. 

It is said that this Philip had once professed Christianity, 
but, having yielded to the temptations which surrounded him, 
had been excluded from the Church for his crimes. He had 
an enlightened conscience j but his Christian character, as in 



286 BISTORT OP CHRISTlAmTt. 

many other cases, fell a sacrifice to his ambition. He was a 
weak man. Though he did not directly persecute the Chris- 
tians, he did not venture to protect them. His reign was 
short, — only five years. 

The army on the Danube chose one of their generals — 
Decius — emperor. The two rival armies, under their several 
sovereigns, soon met near Verona, and engaged in terrible 
mutual slaughter. Both sides were equally bad. God left 
them to scourge and torture and devour one another. It is 
thus that he often punishes wicked nations, by leaving 
them to destroy themselves. Philip's soldiers were routed. 
They turned upon him, cut off his head, and joined the 
conqueror. Decius marched triumphantly to E-ome, where 
the senate and people welcomed an emperor who could en- 
force his title with so many glitteriug swords. 

To the eye of reason, nothing can seem more absurd than 
the doctrine of hereditary descent of power. That a babe, 
a feeble girl, a semi-idiot, or a monster of depravity, should 
be invested with sovereign power over millions, merely from 
the accident of birth, appears preposterous. But, if there be 
neither intelligence nor virtue in a nation, the chance of birth 
may give as good a ruler as the chance of popular suffrage. 

Eome had become so dissolute, that had every name in the 
empire been cast into the wheel of a lottery, and the first 
one thrown out been accepted as emperor, the result could not 
have been more disastrous than that which ensued from the 
vote of the army and the senate. 

In wolfish bands, savage hordes from the forests of the 
north came pouring across the Danube, plundering, burning, 
and putting to the sword all before them. Home, weakened 
by division, was poorly prepared to resist such a foe. Decius 
marched timidly to meet the inrolling flood of barbarians. 
With hyena yells they rushed upon him, scattering his forces 
as wolves scatter sheep. Scaling the walls of Philippopoli, 
they slaughtered in cold blood the whole population^ amount- 
ing to a hundred thousand souls. This was the first suc- 
cessful irruption of the barbarians into the Eoman empire. 



StN AND MISERY. 28? 

This momentous event took place in the year of our Lord 250. 
No tongue can tell the dismay which thrilled all hearts in 
Home as the appalling tidings reached them that the barba- 
rians had conquered and annihilated a Roman army, and 
were on the triumphant march to the capital. 

Decius was slain : his body, trampled into the mire of a 
morass, was never found. 

Under the reign of Decius there was a dreadful persecution 
of the Christians, which was commenced in Alexandria. We 
can infer its character from the following incidents. A young 
Christian, named Matran, was first scourged with terrible 
severity ; his eyes were then burned out with red-hot irons ; 
he was then stoned to death. A Christian young lady, by 
the name of Quinta, had a long rope tied about her feet; 
then the brutal mob, seizing the rope, dragged her upon the 
run, with yells of derision and rage, over the rough pavement, 
till life was extinct, and the poor mangled body had lost all 
semblance of humanity. But we cannot proceed with this 
recital. It would be inflicting too much pain upon the sensi- 
bilities of our readers to have faithfully pictured to them the 
sufferings of the maiden Apollonia, of Sempion, and of many 
others, whose martyrdom history has minutely recorded. 

Decius published a bloody edict against the Christians, and 
sent it to the governors of all the provinces. They were or- 
dered vigilantly to search out Christians, and to punish them 
with the utmost severity, — by scourging, by burning at the 
stake, by beheading, by tossing them to wild beasts, by the 
dungeon, by seating them in iron chairs heated red-hot, by 
tearing out the eyes with burning irons, by tearing the flesh 
from the bones with steel pincers. Demoniac ingenuity was 
devised to lure them to sin, or to force them to renounce their 
Saviour. 

In Smyrna, two eminent Christians, Pionius and Metrodore, 
underwent a rigorous examination. We have a record of the 
questions and the answers. Every effort was made by prom- 
ises and by threats to induce them to recant ; but they re- 
mained firm in their Christian integrity. They were then 



28S HISTORY OF 'CHRISTIANITY 

nailed to crosses, cruel spikes being driven through their 
hands and their feet. The crosses were planted in the ground, 
and heaps of combustibles were piled around for the funeral 
pyre. Before the torch was applied, they were again entreated 
k> deny Christ. 

" If you will do so," said the proconsul, " the spikes shall 
immediately be drawn out, and your lives shall be preserved." 

Their only reply was a prayer to the Lord Jesus to receive 
their spirits. The flames crackled and roared around them, 
enveloping them as in a fiery furnace. In the chariot of fire, 
their united spirits ascended to the martyr's crown. Page 
after page might be filled with similar recitals ; but enough 
has already been said to give an idea of the frantic yet 
unavailing efforts which wicked men have made to obliterate 
Christianity from the world. These scenes remind one of the 
revelation written by the " beloved apostle " to the " angel," 
or pastor, of the church in Smyrna : — 

" These things saith the First and the Last, which was dead, 
and is alive : I know thy works and tribulation and poverty 
(but thou art rich) ; and I know the blasphemy of them which 
say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan. 
Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer : behold, the 
devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried ; 
and ye shall have tribulation ten days : be thou faithful unto 
death, and I will give thee a crown of life. . . . He that 
overcometh shall not be hurt of the second death." 1 

Upon the death of Decius, the senate, terrified by the de- 
struction of the army and by the approach of the barbarians, 
again chose two emperors. Hostilianus was invested with 
the civil, and Gallus with the military command. Home, 
Christianity-persecuting Rome, had already sunk so low, that 
Gallus was compelled to the ignominy of purchasing peace 
with the barbarians on the most degrading and revolting terms. 
They were permitted to retire unmolested with all their plun- 
der and with all their captives, consisting of thousands of Ro- 
mans, young men and beautiful women, to till the soil, and 

i Rev. ii. 8-10. 



Slti AND MISERY. 289 

serve in the harertis of the barbarian Goths. By the law of 
retribution, this was right. Koine had made slaves of all na- 
tions : it was just that Eome should drink of the cup of 
slavery herself. 

Gallus, the military emperor, wished to reign alone : he 
therefore poisoned Hostilianus. There was a Roman army on 
the Danube. The soldiers there proclaimed their general, 
<Emilianus, emperor. Gallus marched to meet him ; but his 
soldiers despised his weakness, and slew him and his son, and 
then joined the army of iEmilianus. 

The Roman empire at this time, about the middle of the 
third century, consisted of a belt of territory about a thou- 
sand miles in breadth, encircling the Mediterranean Sea as 
a central lake. All beyond were unknown savage wilds, 
Throughout all this vast region, Paganism was assailing 
Christianity with the most malignant and deadly energies. 

And yet the zeal of the Christians was such, that while 
some, yielding to the terrors which threatened them, denied 
Christ, many went gladly to martyrdom. No one could tell 
how soon his hour would come. The life of the Christian was 
in daily peril from the executioner or from the mob; and 
yet many of those Christians, inspired with supernatural zeal 
and courage, devoted themselves entirely to the open and 
earnest preaching of the gospel. 

" I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves," said 
Christ. They accepted the mission. In the thronged streets 
of the city, like Paul at Athens, while some gnashed their 
teeth with rage, and others heard them gladly, they proclaimed 
salvation through faith in an atoning Saviour. Two and two 
they penetrated the villages, and wandered through the sparse- 
ly-settled country, with the sublime and astounding doctrine, 
that God, in the person of Jesus Christ, had suffered upon 
the cross to make an atonement for sin ; and that now all 
who wished to reach heaven were to acknowledge this Saviour, 
and live according to his teachings, at whatever hazard. 

Thus, notwithstanding the persecutions, converts were mul- 
tiplied. For every one who was slain, perhaps two rose to 



290 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

take his place. The persecutors themselves, like Saul of Tar- 
sus, often became converts, and preached that faith which 
they had once endeavored to destroy. Even the unbelieving 
Gibbon, who seldom loses an opportunity to show his hostility 
to the religion of Jesus, admits that the zeal of the early 
Christians in preaching the gospel, their fortitude under the 
most dreadful sufferings, the purity of their morals, and their 
love for one another, were among the potent influences which 
enabled Christianity to triumph over the imperial power of the 
Caesars and the malignity of the mob, to overthrow all the 
gorgeous altars of paganism, and to establish itself firmly 
upon the ruins of the most imposing system of idolatry the 
world has ever known. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



INVASION CIVIL WAR, AND UNRELENTING PERSECUTION. 



/Emilianus and Valerian. — Barbaric Hordes. — Slavery and its Retribution. — Awful 
Fate of Valerian. — Ruin of the Roman Empire. — Zenobia and her Captivity. 
— The Slave Diocletian becomes Emperor. — His Reign, Abdication, Death.— 
Division of the Empire. — Terrible Persecution. — The G-lory of Christianity.— 
Characteristics of the First Three Centuries. — Abasement of Rome. 



BOUT this time, near the close of the third cen- 
tury of the Christian era, the harharians who 
surrounded the Roman empire commenced with 
great vigor their resistloss ravages. Along the 
whole line of the Danube, they swarmed in locust 
legions across the frontiers. Still the infatuated 
Romans, instead of combining against the com- 
mon foe, were wasting their energies in persecuting the Chris- 
tians and in desolating civil wars. 

A Roman general, by the name of iEmilianus, was in com- 
mand of the army upon the Danube. His soldiers had chosen 
him emperor. There was another Roman army in Prance, 
then called Gaul. This Gallic army chose their general, Vale- 
rian, emperor. These two hostile forces marched to settle the 
question on the field of battle. As the antagonistic hosts 
drew near each other, the soldiers of .ZEmilianus, deeming the 
opposite army the stronger, murdered their general, whom 
they had chosen emperor, and, with loud huzzas, rallied around 
the banner of Valerian. 

From the remote East, from Persia, and from the Indies, 
tribes of uncouth names, language, and dress, were ravaging 

291 




292 BISTORT OF CHRISTIAN ITT. 

all those wild frontiers of the empire. Valerian, an old 
man of seventy years, sent his son Gallienus with an army 
to drive back these hordes into Persia. He himself, in the 
mean time, repaired in person to the Danube to assail the bar- 
barians there. But the irruption of these ferocious bands was 
like the resistless flood of the tide : it could not be arrested. 
In wave after wave of invasion, they swept over France and 
Spain. They even crossed the Straits of Gibraltar, and entered 
Africa. An immense tribe came howling through the denies 
of the Bhsetian Alps, and swept over the plains of Lombardy. 

Another vast army descended those then unexplored rivers 
flowing from the north into the Black Sea, ravaging all the 
coasts of Asia Minor, glutting themselves with plunder, mas- 
sacring the old, and carrying off the young. With how little 
emotion we read such a narrative ! and yet how awful must 
nave been the desolation and misery which were inflicted by 
these wolfish barbarians upon the wretched inhabitants ! 

These wild beings, in boats made of the skins of beasts, 
floated down the Bosphorus and the Hellespont ; and the illus- 
trious men and beautiful women of Greece were captured by 
these demons in human form. The descendants of Demos- 
thenes and of Aristides, of Plato and of Aspasia, were dragged 
mto hopeless and endless slavery. 

Five hundred years before this, a distinguished Grecian 
philosopher, Aristotle, had written a book to prove that slave- 
ry was right ; that it was right for the more powerful nations 
to enslave the weaker ones. The wheel had now turned, 
though it had been five hundred years in turning. The bar- 
barian Goths were the more powerful, and the intellectual and 
polished Greeks the less powerful. These shaggy monsters, 
as wild as the beasts whose skins they wore, were but carrying 
out the philosophy of Aristotle as they dragged the boys and 
girls of Greece into bondage. 

Gloriously the religion of Jesus beams forth amidst all 
these horrors. " God hath made of one blood all nations." 1 
"Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye 

1 Acts xvii. 26. 



INVASION, — CIVIL WAR. — PERSECUTION. 293 

even so to them." * " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy- 
self." 2 

The Emperor Valerian pressed on with his Eoman legions 
to attack the barbarians in the Far East. He crossed the Eu- 
phrates, and encountered the Persian host, drawn up in defiant 
battle-array on the plains of Mesopotamia. A terrible battle 
was fought, and the Eoman army cut to pieces. The con- 
querors took Valerian prisoner; and God, in awful retri- 
bution, compelled the captive emperor to drink to the dregs 
that bitter cup of slavery which the Eoman emperors, for 
so many centuries, had forced to the lips of all the other 
nations. 

Derisively the Persians robed the captive emperor in impe- 
rial purple. He was compelled to kneel upon his hands and 
his feet in the mud, that Sapor, his conqueror, might use him 
as a block, putting his foot upon his back as he mounted his 
horse. Eor seven years, Valerian was kept as a slave in Per- 
sia, He was exposed to every indignity which pride and 
revenge could heap upon him. At last, with demoniac bar- 
barity, they put out his eyes, and skinned him alive. His 
skin, dyed red, was stuffed, and preserved for ages in commem- 
oration of Persia's triumph over imperial Eome. 

Gallienus, upon the captivity of his father, was invested 
with the imperial sceptre. Appalled by the fate of Valerian, 
he dared not march to attack the barbarians. Sheltering 
himself in Eome, he endeavored to bribe the Goths and Van- 
dals to cease their ravages. The barbarians accepted his 
bribes, despised his weakness, and continued their forrays. 

The Eoman empire was in hopeless ruin. There was no 
longer recognized government or recognized law. In all di- 
rections, ambitious generals were rising in struggles for the 
crown. In the course of twelve years, more than thirty of 
these claimants appeared. The whole empire was swept by 
the blood-red surges of civil war. In those twelve years, it is 
estimated that the Eoman empire, by civil war and barbaric 
invasion, lost one-half of its population. The sword, famine, 

i Matt. vii. 12. a Mark sdi. 31, 



294 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

and pestilence swept off a hundred and fifty millions of the 
inhabitants. 

These barbarians ravaged the empire in all directions, per- 
petrating horrors indescribable. Several times they flaunted 
their defiant flag within sight of the dome of the capitol at 
Rome. Aureolus, an insurgent general, marched upon Rome 
with an army from the Upper Danube. Gallienus advanced 
to meet him. In the tumult of a midnight battle, he was 
slain by one of his own soldiers. With his dying breath he 
named one of his most distinguished generals, Claudius, em- 
peror. The senate accepted him. 

Claudius captured Aureolus, and put him to death. The 
barbarians now, in armaments more formidable than ever 
before, were crossing the frontiers in a line fifteen hundred 
miles in length, extending from the German Ocean to the 
waves of the Euxine. 

An immense army of Goths, numbering three hundred and 
twenty thousand men, in six thousand barges, descended the 
Dneister to the Black Sea. Hence, passing through the Bos- 
phorus, they entered the Sea of Marmora, and swept resist- 
lessly over all the provinces of ancient Greece. Claudius 
attacked them. In a momentary revival of the ancient Ro- 
man vigor, he drove them back to their forests. In the pur- 
suit, Claudius died; and the sceptre passed to Aurelian, the 
son of a peasant, but one of Rome's ablest generals. He pur- 
sued the Goths with astonishing energy, smiting them with a 
rod of iron. He drove them from France, Spain, and Britain, 
and then prepared to attack them in the Far East. 
. Among the many rivals for the imperial throne who at this 
time sprang up, there was one named Odenathus, at Palmyra, 
near the Euphrates. He maintained his sovereignty over 
many wide provinces there for twelve years. Dying, he trans- 
mitted his sceptre to his widow Zenobia. Her history was so 
wonderful as to merit particular notice. 

Queen Zenobia was an extraordinary woman. She was as 
graceful in form as a sylph, marvellously beautiful in features, 
and endowed with the highest intelligence. She spoke flu- 



INVASION. — CIVIL WAR. —PERSECUTION 295 

ently four languages, — Latin, Greek, Egyptian, and Syriac. 
What was still more wonderful for a woman in those days, 
she was an author, and had written an epitome of Oriental 
history. Her domain extended from the Euphrates to the 
Mediterranean. The celebrated Longinus, whose fame is 
known to every student, was her secretary. 

Without assuming any hostility with the powers at Rome, 
Zenobia, for five years, maintained uncontrolled command over 
this eastern division of the empire. Aurelian marched against 
her. The witty satirists of Rome lampooned him for making 
war against a woman. Aurelian replied in a communication 
to the senate, — 

" Some speak with contempt of war against a woman. 
They know not the character or the power of Zenobia. It is 
impossible to enumerate her warlike preparations, of stones, 
arrows, and every species of missile weapon. She has numer- 
ous and powerful military engines from which artificial fire is 
thrown. The dread of punishment has armed her with des- 
peration. Yet I trust in the protecting deities of Rome." 

After several sanguinary battles, in which Zenobia was 
worsted, she retired to her citadel within the walls of Pal- 
myra. As the Romans vigorously pressed the siege, she, con- 
scious of the doom that awaited her should she be captured, 
attempted to escape on one of her fleetest dromedaries. She 
had reached the distance of sixty miles, when she was over- 
taken, and brought back, a captive, to Aurelian. 

The Roman victor showed no mercy. Longinus, the illus- 
trious scholar, was sent to the block. Palmyra was sacked, 
and nearly destroyed. All the aged men and women and the 
young children were put to the sword. Zenobia and a mul- 
titude of boys and girls were carried captive to Rome. Such 
a triumph the decaying city had not witnessed for years. It 
was the dying flickering of the lamp. Twenty elephants, 
four tigers, and two hundred of the most imposing animals of 
the East, led the pompous procession. The vast plunder of 
the Oriental cities was ostentatiously paraded. 

An immense train of captives followed to give eclat to the 



296 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

triumph. Conspicuous among these slaves was Zenobia, radi- 
ant with pensive beauty. She was robed in the most gor- 
geous attire of the Orient. Fetters of gold bound her beautiful 
arms; and she tottered beneath the burden of jewelry and 
precious stones with which she was decorated. Her magnifi- 
cent chariot was drawn by Arabian chargers richly caparisoned. 
The captive queen followed it on foot. All eyes were riveted 
upon her. 

Aurelian rode in a triumphal car drawn by four stags. The 
Roman senate in flowing robes, the bannered army, and the 
countless populace, closed the procession. This was the last 
of Rome's triumphs. The reign of anarchy commenced. 
Aurelian was cut down by assassins. 

For two or three hundred years, but three or four Boman 
emperors had died a natural death. For eight months after 
the assassination of Aurelian, there was no emperor. No 
man seemed willing to accept the crown, — it was so sure to 
bring upon him the assassin's dagger. The glory of Rome 
had departed forever. 

Such was the condition of the world about the middle of 
the third century. Pagan Rome had fallen through her own 
corruption. Her polluted shrines were abandoned, and her 
idolatrous temples were mouldering to decay. Christianity 
was steadily undermining the proudest temples of pagan wor- 
ship. The disciples of Jesus, purified by persecution, were 
preaching that pure faith which was dethroning idols, break- 
ing fetters, educating the ignorant, and regenerating the 
wicked. 

There was at this time in Rome a venerable old man, of 
vast wealth and singular purity of character, named Tacitus. 
He had been a kind friend to the poor. Weary of anarchy, 
the people gathered in tumultuous thousands around his man- 
sion, demanding that he should be emperor. Earnestly he 
begged to be excused. 

But, just at this time, tidings came that the barbarians from 
the East were crowding across the Euphrates and the Tigris. 
They were plundering, burning, and massacring in all direc- 



INVASION. — CIVIL WAR. — PERSECUTION. 297 

tions. The soldiers were clamorous for an emperor to lead 
them to repel this invasion. This noble old man of seventy- 
five years was compelled to yield. He put himself at the 
head of the army, and had advanced to within a hundred 
and fifty miles of the Euphrates, when the soldiers rose in 
mutiny, and killed him. 

Diocletian, who had been a slave, grasped the crown by the 
energies of his strong mind and his brawny arm. A few 
bloody conflicts ensued ; but he was a resolute man, and oppo- 
sition soon melted before him. As it was no longer possible 
to hold the empire together, assailed as it was in every quarter 
by the barbarians, Diocletian sagaciously divided it into four 
parts : — 

1. France, Spain, and England were made one kingdom, 
and assigned to Constantius. 

2. The German provinces on the Danube made another 
kingdom, which was allotted to Galerius. 

3. A third realm was composed of Italy and Africa, where 
Maximian was invested with the sovereignty. 

4. Diocletian took for himself the whole of Greece, Egypt, 
and Asia. 

The Roman empire was thus divided into four kingdoms, 
which were in some respects independent; yet, as Diocle- 
tian had created them, and appointed their sovereigns, they 
were all in a degree under his energetic sway, and bound to 
support each other against the common foe. But Rome seemed 
to have filled up the measure of its iniquity. No human sa- 
gacity could avert its doom. For ages she had been gathering 
" wrath against the day of wrath." 

Soon the savage Britons rose in arms. German tribes, clad 
in skins and swinging gory clubs, blackened the banks of the 
Danube and the Rhine. The wild hordes of Africa, from the 
Nile to Mount Atlas, were in arms. Moorish nations, issuing 
from unknown fastnesses, crossed the Straits of Gibraltar, and 
swept like the sirocco of the desert over the Spanish penin- 
sula ; then, gathering upon the cliffs of the Pyrenees, they 
descended in an avalanche of destruction upon the plains of 



298 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

France. The Persian hordes, emerging from the steppes of 
Tariary in countless bands, were roused to new efforts to chas- 
tise Borne, their old hereditary enemy. Thus the shouts of 
war reverberated over the whole of the then known world. 
All its fields were crimsoned with blood. 

There were four royal capitals. Rome was abandoned as 
iihe metropolitan centre. Diocletian was still the ruling spirit 
over a'l those kingdoms which his sagacity had formed. He 
chose for his own capital Nicomedia, on the Asiatic coast of 
the Sea of Marmora. Though he spent his life in the camp, 
he endeavored to invest his capital with splendor which should 
outvie all the ancient glories of Rome. 

Diocletian was a shrewd man. Being aware how much the 
masses were influenced by outward show, he robed himself in 
garments of satin and gold. He wore a diadem of most exqui- 
site pearls. Even his shoes were studded with glittering gems. 
All who approached him were compelled to prostrate them- 
selves, and address him with the titles of deity. Gradually 
this extraordinary man became supreme emperor. The other 
three kings were crowded into the position of merely govern- 
ors of subordinate provinces. 

Diocletian resolved to uphold paganism, and consecrated all 
the energies of his vigorous mind to the extirpation of Chris- 
tianity. We need not enter into the details of this persecu* 
tion, its scourgings and its bloody enormities : such details 
are harrowing to the soul. We have already given examples 
sufficient to show what persecution was under the Roman 
emperors. The heroism with which many young persons of 
both sexes braved death, from love to Christ, is ennobling to 
humanity. 

A decree was passed ordering every soldier in the army to 
join in idolatrous worship. The penalty for refusal was a ter- 
rible scourging, and to be driven from the ranks. There were 
many Christian soldiers in the army. With wonderful forti- 
tude they met their fate. 

Diocletian issued a decree that every church should be 
burned, that every copy of the Scriptures should be consigned 



INVASION. — CIVIL WAR. — PERSECUTION. 299 

to the flames, and that every Christian, of whatever rank, sex, 
or age, should be tortured, and thus compelled to renounce 
Christianity. No pen can describe the horrors of this persecu- 
tion, the dismay with which it crushed all Christian hearts, or 
the fortitude with which the disciples of Jesus bore ths scour- 
gings, fire, and death. 

We might fill pages with narratives of individual cases of 
suffering and of heroism. How little do we in this nineteenth 
century appreciate the blessing of being permitted to worship 
God according to the dictates of our consciences, with none to 
molest or make afraid ! 

While Diocletian was thus persecuting the- Christians, he 
was also struggling with almost superhuman energy to hold 
together the crumbling elements of the Roman empire, assailed 
at every point by the barbarians. Nations die slowly : their 
groans are deep, their convulsions awful. For several centu- 
ries, Borne was writhing in death's agonies. 

In the twenty-first year of his reign, and the fifty-ninth of 
his age, Diocletian enfeebled by sickness, and exhausted by 
the cares of empire, resolved to abdicate his throne. At the 
same time, he compelled Maximian to abdicate at Milan. It 
was his design to re-organize the Roman empire into two king- 
doms, instead of four. This was the origin of the division of 
the Eoman world into the Eastern and Western empires. 
The morning sun rose upon the Orientui realms of Galerius : 
its evening rays fell iif on the Occidental kingdom of Constan- 
tius. 

The ceremony of abdicating the empire of the world by Dio- 
cletian was very imposing. About three miles from the city 
of Ni^cmedia there is a spacious plain, which was selected for 
the pageant. Upon a lofty throne, Diocletian, pale and ema- 
ciate, announced to the immense multitude assembled his res- 
ignation of the diadem. Then, laying aside his imperial robes, 
he entered a closed chariot, and repaired to a rural retreat 
which he had selected at Salona, on the Grecian shore of the 
Adriatic Sea. It was the 1st of May, A.D 305. 

Accustomed for many years to luxury, he surrounded him- 



300 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

self in a magnificent castle with the highest appliances of 
wealth and grandeur. With the eye of an artist he had se 
lected the spot. From the portico there was a view of won- 
drous beauty. The wide panorama spread out before him an 
enchanting landscape of the cloud-capped mountains of Greece, 
with towering Olympus, the blue waters of the Mediterra- 
nean, and the green, luxuriant, and Eden-like islands of the 
Adriatic. 

Ten acres were covered by the splendid palace he had here 
constructed. It was built of freestone, and flanked by sixteen 
towers. The principal entrance was appropriately named 
u the Golden Gate." Gorgeous temples were reared in honor 
of the pagan gods, whom Diocletian ostentatiously adored. 
The surrounding grounds were embellished in the highest style 
of landscape-gardening. The saloons and banqueting-halls 
were filled with exquisite paintings and statuary. 

But even here, in the most lovely retreat which nature and 
art could create, man's doom of sorrow pursued the emperor. 
The keenest of domestic griefs pierced his heart, darkening 
the splendors of his saloons, and blighting the flowers of his 
arbors and parterres. 

Bitterly had Diocletian persecuted the Christians. He had 
made every effort to infuse new vigor into pagan worship. Was 
this his earthly punishment ? We know not : we simply 
know that for long years he wandered woe-stricken, consumed 
by remorse, through those magnificent saloons, into which one 
ray of joy never penetrated. The dread future was beiore him. 
Pagan as he assumed to be, he had no faith in paganism : he 
upheld the institution simply as a means of overawing the 
populace. 

There is a marked difference between Christianity and all 
forms of idolatry. The intellectual men of olden time — Cice- 
ro, Plato, Aristotle — despised the popular religion : they re- 
garded it merely as an instrument to intimidate the ignorant 
masses. 

But, with Christianity, the ablest men, the profoundest 
thinkers, are its most earnest advocates. The presidents of 



INVASION. — CIVIL WAR. — PERSECUTION. 301 

our colleges, the most prominent men at the bar, the most 
distinguished of our statesmen, our ablest scientific men, 
our most heroic generals, are men who revere Christianity ; 
who seek its guidance through life, and its support in 
death. 

The death of Diocletian is shrouded in mystery. Some say 
he was poisoned. Some affirm, that, tortured by remorse, he 
committed suicide. "We simply know that he died with no 
beam of hope illuminating the gloom of his dying-bed. He 
passed away to the judgment-seat of Christ, there to answer 
for persecuting Christ's disciples with cruelty never sur- 
passed. 

Such was the condition of the world at the commencement 
of the fourth century. 

In the first century of the Christian era, we have mainly a 
series of execrable emperors, who, by their extravagance and 
their crimes, were sowing the seeds for the dissolution of the 
empire. 

In the second century, Christianity begins slowly to make 
itself felt. We have some very good emperors, but with no 
power to stem the torrent of corruption at full flood. One 
after another they are swept away by poisou and the dagger. 
Corruption roils on in resistless surges. Christianity, earnest, 
active, and heroic, then in its infancy, could do very little to 
stay such billows in thei? impetuous career. It could onlj 
work upon individual hearts. But thus it gradually spread it.- 
life, giving leaven through the mass. 

The third century dawns upon us, black with clouds and 
storms. Apocalyptic vials of woe are emptied upon the 
world. There is dread among the nations. Death on the pale 
horse stalks through Europe. The fetlocks of the horse are 
red with blood. Rome, the Babylon of that day, drunk with 
sensuality and oppression, falls in convulsions, — shrieks and 
struggles and dies. It was needful that such a Borne, the 
tyrant and oppressor of humanity, should die. In prophetic 
vision we can see this Babylon descending to the realms of 
woe : — 



302 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

" Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming : 
It stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the chief ones of the earth; 
It hath raiced up from their thrones all the kings of the nations. 
All they shall speak, and say unto thee, 

' Art thou also become weak as we ? art thou become like unto us 
Thy pomp is brought down to the grave, and the noise of thy viols : 
The worm is spread under thee, and the worms cover thee. 
How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning ! 
How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the na* 
lions!'" 1 

During this century, Christianity made rapid progress. It 
is alike the testimony of pagan and Christian writers that this 
progress is mainly to be attributed to the zeal of the Chris- 
tians, their kindness to the poor, their sympathy with the 
afflicted, their purity of morals, and their fortitude under the 
severest pangs of martyrdom. 

Notwithstanding the fiery persecutions with which pagan- 
ism with all its energies had assailed Christianity, it con- 
tinued steadily to multiply its converts and to extend its 
peaceful conquests. 

»I§a.xiv.9-12. 



CHAPTER XV. 



CONSTANTINE. — THE BANNER OF THE CROSS UNFURLED. 



Helena, the Christian Empress. — Constantine, her Son. favors the Christians.— 
Crumbling of the Empire. — Constantine the Christian, and Maxentius the Pa- 
gan. — Vision of Constantine. — The Unfurled Cross. — Christianity favored by 
the Court. —Li cinius in the East defends the Christians. — Writings of Euse- 
bius. — Apostasy of Licinius. — Cruel Persecution. 



T the commencement of the fourth century, Chris- 
tianity had made such rapid progress, that there 
were nourishing churches in all parts of the Ro- 
man world, and spacious temples of worship in 
all the principal cities. . Indeed, in about one 
century after the death of Jesus Christ, Justin 
Martyr wrote, — 
" There exists not a people, whether Greek or Barbarian, or 
any other race of men,, by whatever appellation or manners 
they may be distinguished, however ignorant of arts or agri- 
culture, whether they dwell under tents or wander about in 
covered wagons, among which prayers are not offered up in 
the name of a crucified Jesus to the Father and Creator of "all 
things." 

Persecution had not been continuous, but spasmodical ; at 
times raging like a tempest, and again dying away into a 
transient calm. If any thing went wrong, pagan superstition 
attributed it to the displeasure of the idol gods. . All calami- 
ties were considered as the punishment which the gods were 
inflicting upon the people because the Christians were causing 




304 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANIT?. 

the shrines of the idols to be deserted. Tertullian, an earnest 
Christian pastor in Carthage, wrote, — 

" If the Tiber overflowed its banks, if there were famine or 
plague, if the season were hot or dry or scorching, what- 
ever public calamity happened, the universal- cry of the popu- 
lace was, l To the lions with the Christians ! ? " 

When Diocletian abdicated, he compelled Maximian also to 
abdicate, and then divided the empire into halves, placing Ga- 
lerius as emperor in the East, and Constantius in the West. 
Galerius was a cruel, proud, fanatical pagan, who hated the 
Christians. He assailed them with one of the most bloody 
persecutions they had ever experienced. 

Constantius had married a Christian lady, Helena. Though 
not himself a Christian, he was so far influenced by his pious 
wife as to greatly befriend them. In fifteen months affcei the 
enthronement of Constantius over the Western empire, he 
died. The crown descended to his son Constantine, then 
thirty-two years of age. This was in the year 306. Con- 
stantine was not a Christian; but he was a humane, intel- 
ligent man, who revered the memory of his pious mother. 
His father Constantius, like Agrippa, had been almost a 
Christian. Like many such men now, he had great respect 
for religion. There were many Christians who were inmates 
of the palace. He even appointed Christians as chaplains, 
and listened to their daily prayers in his behalf. All through 
history, we see traces of the wonderful power of a truly Chris- 
tian wife and mother. 

Helena, the mother of Constantine, was so consistent in her 
Christian character, that her family were constrained to recog- 
nize her superiority, and to admire her spirit. It was doubt- 
less her example which mainly influenced her illustrious son 
to embrace the gospel. Through her long life she was the mu- 
nificent friend of the Christians, — travelling from place to 
place to aid them with her money and her personal influence. 
She died at the age of eighty years, a true mother in Israel. In 
the palace, as in the cottage, maternal piety has been one of 
the greatest blessings of earth. 



CONSTANTINE. — THE BANNER OF THE CROSS. 305 

Nothing now could arrest the dissolution of the old Roman 
world, crumbling beneath the weight of its own corruptions. 
The dogs of war were soon unleashed. Rival emperors again 
appeared. While Constantine was in Britain, a general by the 
name of Maxentius raised the standard of revolt against him 
in Italy. At the head of an army of a hundred and eighty 
thousand foot, and eighteen thousand horse, he bade defiance to 
Constantine. 

The emperor, roused to the highest pitch of indignation, im- 
petuously crossed the British Channel, traversed Gaul, sur- 
mounted the Alps by the pass of Mont Cenis, and descended 
into the plains of Piedmont. He was within four hundred 
miles of Rome before Maxentius was aware that he had 
crossed the British Channel. In accordance with the barbaric 
customs of the times, Constantine, as he approached Borne, 
ravaged the States which had sympathized in the revolt of 
Maxentius, and made slaves of all the people. The number 
of captives so increased, that hundreds of smiths were constant- 
ly employed in hammering the swords of Lhe vanquished into 
fetters. 

Maxentius was an inveterate pagan. In preparing for the 
conflict with Constantine, he had supplicaLed the aid cf the 
Roman gods by the most gorgeous ceremonies and the most 
costly sacrifices. This led Constantine to feel that he must 
appeal to the God of the Christians for support. The follow- 
ing remarkable narrative is recorded by contemporary writers as 
given by Constantine himself. 

Just before the final battle, Constantine was earnestly pray- 
ing in his tent to that God whom his mother had revealed to 
him. While engaged in this act of devotion, he observed a 
remarkable appearance in the heavens ; when there emerged, 
in wonderful distinctness and effulgence, a cross with this in- 
scription, — "In hoc vinces" ("By this thou shalt conquer"). 
The miraculous apparition was seen by the whole army. 

While Constantine was pondering the significance of this 
sign, night came on. In a dream, Christ appeared to the em- 
peror with the same cross which he had seen in the heavens, 
20 



306 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANlTt. 

and directed him to cause a banner to be made after that pat- 
tern, and, beneath that banner, to lead his armies to victory 
over their pagan foes. 

However we may explain this event, whether we regard it 
as a miracle, or as the effect of the excited imagination of the 
emperor, this seems to be certain, — that Constantine himself 
made repeated and solemn declarations that he had seen this 
vision. He certainly did raise the banner of the cross, — the 
first time that banner was ever raised over his army. He 
taught his troops, pagans as most of them were, to seek the 
aid of the God of the Christians. 

Eusebius, pastor of the church at Nicomedia, one of the 
most eloquent preachers and able writers of the age, records 
that he had this story of the miraculous appearance of the 
cross from the emperor himself} and that the emperor, con- 
scious of the great importance of the statement, substantiated 
the narrative by the solemnity of an oath. Constantine could 
have had no motive to perjure himself; neither was such a 
crime in accordance with his character. 

Constantine, much excited by the dream of the night, which 
enforced the remarkable vision of the day, rose with the ear- 
liest dawn, summoned his principal officers into his presence, 
and inform sd them of the standard which he wished to have 
immediately constructed. 

A slender cross was then made, — a long pike-staff being 
traversed by a cross-bar. This was gilded, and incrusted with 
the most precious gems. A crown of gold and diamonds sur- 
mounted the staff. To this there was attached a small silken 
banner, richly embroidered with gold and jewels, and containing 
the monogram of Christ. Above and beneath this silken 
standard were images in gold of the emperor and his children. 
In addition to this imperial banner which rose over the tent 
of the emperor, there were other similar banners on a smaller 
scale constructed, one for each division of the army. The em- 
peror had also imprinted upon his helmet an image of the cross, 
and one also upon the shield of every soldier. He summoned 
several bishops, or pastors, to his presence, that they might 



CONSTANTINE. — THE BANNER OF THE CROSS. 307 

instruct him respecting the character of Jesus, his mission and 
his career. He obtained copies of the Sacred Scriptures, and 
read them with great care. 1 

The 28th of October of the year 312 had arrived. Constan- 
tine had with him but forty thousand troops ; but they were 
veterans, and were inspired with the utmost confidence in 
their leader, who was one of the ablest of generals. When 
within nine miles of Rome, the emperor encountered the 
army of Maxentius strongly intrenched. A terrible battle 
ensued, and Maxentius was utterly routed with awful slaugh- 
ter. In endeavoring to escape across the Tiber by the Mil- 
vian Bridge, he was crowded by the fugitives into the river. 
From the weight of his armor, he sank like lead. The next 
day his body was dragged from the mud ; and the soldiers, hav- 
ing cut off his head, paraded it on a pole while Constantine 
entered Eome in triumph. 

Maxentius had been terribly cruel. Even while the battle 
had been raging outside the walls, a mutiny had been excited 
against him in Eome. The senate, and all the people, and 
even the routed soldiers of Maxentius, received the conqueror 
with great enthusiasm. An arch of triumph was reared to 
his honor, which remains with its costly ornaments and flatter- 
ing inscription to the present day. A statue of Constantine 
is placed in one of the public squares of Eome, with a cross 
instead of a lance in his hand. 

Licinius was emperor in the East. Constantine negotiated 
a matrimonial alliance between his sister Constantia and 
Licinius. The nuptials were celebrated in Eome. The em- 
peror easily influenced Licinius to co-operate with him in issu- 
ing the following decree from the city of Milan : — 

" I, Constantine the august, and I, Licinius the august, 
desirous of promoting in every way the public peace and pros- 
perity, have deemed it one of our first duties to regulate the 
worship of Deity. We do therefore grant to Christians and 
all others the liberty to embrace such religion as each one may 
choose, that we may draw down the favor of Heaven upon us and 

1 Histoire du Chris tianisme, par PAbbS Fleury. 



$08 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

upon our subjects. We have resolved not to deny to any one 
the liberty to embrace the Christian faith, or any religion 
which to him may seem best." 

All over the empire the officers of government were ordered 
no longer to molest the Christians, but to protect them. The 
property which had been wrested from them, was restored; 
their places of worship, which had been closed, were re-opened; 
and bhey were rendered eligible to all the offices of honor and 
emolument in the empire. 

Licinius had established his capital at Constantinople, then 
called Byzantium. While he was absent at Rome to obtain 
his bride, Maximian in Asia crossed the Bosphorus with a 
powerful army in the depth of winter, and, after a siege of 
eleven days, captured Byzantium. Licinius, at the head of 
seventy thousand troops, marched to regain his capital. The 
two armies met about fifty miles west of the city. Maximian 
made a solemn vow to Jupiter, that, if he would give him the 
victory, he would put every Christian man, woman, and child 
within his domains to death, and thus extirpate the Christian 
name. 

The night before the decisive battle, Licinius dreamed that 
an angel appeared to him, and called upon him immediately 
to arise, and to pray with his whole army to the supreme God, 
promising him the victory if he should do so. The angel also 
dictated to him the form of the prayer which he was to offer. 

Licinius, awaking, immediately called for a secretary, and 
directed him to write down the words of the prayer which 
had been uttered by the angel. They were as follows : — 

" Great God, we pray to thee. Holy God, we pray to thee. 
To thee we commend all justice. To thee we commend our 
safety. To thee we commend our subjects. To thee we com- 
mend our empire. It is through thee we live. It is through 
thee alone that we can be victorious or happy. Great and holy 
God, listen to our prayers. We reach forth our arms to thee. 
Great and holy God, grant our prayer." 

Many copies of this prayer were taken, and distributed to 
the officers, so that every soldier might learn and repeat it, 



CONSTANTINE. — THE BANNER OF THE CROSS. 309 

The zeal of the army, and its confidence in victory, were thus 
greatly augmented. 

The battle took place on the first day of May, in the year 
313. The two hosts met upon a wild and barren plain called 
Champserain. The soldiers of Licinius, upon a given signal, 
threw down their shields, uncovered their heads, and, raising 
their arms to the skies, repeated simultaneously the prayer 
which all had learned. Three times the prayer was repeated, 
the emperor and all the officers joining in the supplication. 

The hostile army, drawn up at a little distance, heard with 
astonishment the confused noise of their voices, like the rush 
of many waters. 

The soldiers of Licinius replaced their helmets and shields. 
The war-trumpet sounded ; and with waving banners, and 
shouts of onset, the two armies rushed at each other. The 
slaughter of the army of Maximian was such as had scarcely 
ever been seen before. The soldiers of Licinius seemed en- 
dued with supernatural strength. They struck down the 
opposing ranks as the mower sweeps the grass with the scythe. 
Maximian, terror-stricken, threw aside his purple robes, and, 
dressing himself in the clothes of a slave, escaped across the 
strait. He fled with such precipitation, that in twenty-four 
hours he entered Nicomedia, a hundred and sixty miles from 
the battle-field. There he soon died, tortured by misery, 
pain, and remorse, after having in vain endeavored to kill 
himself. 

Constantine now joined Licinius ; and they re-issued in the 
East the same decree in favor of the Christians which they 
had already published in the West. Constantine even en- 
treated the Christians to rebuild their churches. Thus won- 
derfully was persecution brought to an end. The Christians 
were astonished at these marvels of divine power. They were 
inspired with new energies. Large and beautiful churches 
rose upon the ruins of those which had been destroyed. The 
people, influenced by the imperial decree, crowded the churches. 

The emperor wrote letters in favor of the Christians ; invited 
the pastors to his table, and treated them with great distinc- 



310 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

tion. He contributed liberally to tlie building and the orna- 
mentation of tlie churches. The widows and orphans of the 
martyrs were regarded with especial favor. He gave dowries 
to the young girls, and married them to wealthy and distin- 
guished men. 

It was at this time that Eusebius, Bishop of Caesarea, the 
most learned man' of his age, wrote his celebrated defence 
of Christianity, entitled "Dernonstratio Evangelica." In it he 
showed that the law of Moses was intended for a single peo- 
ple, occupying a limited territory ; and that it was by no 
means applicable to the whole world ; but that this law of 
Moses invited the world to a new alliance, which was to be 
formed of all peoples, under the gospel of Jesus Christ. He 
argued the vast superiority of Christ to Moses ; declaring that 
the purity of his life proved that he was not an impostor, and 
that his miracles proved that he was not a mere man. He 
showed that no man could doubt the reality of these miracles, 
when one considered the simplicity of the disciples, their good 
faith, their disinterestedness, their perseverance even unto 
death, and the impossibility of imagining any motive they 
could have had to deceive the world. 

He showed clearly that the Christians had not received the 
religion of Jesus through a blind faith and a rash credulity ; 
but that, after serious examination, they were fully persuaded 
by substantial reasons, and were influenced by a well-founded 
judgment, to abandon the paganism in which they had been 
educated, and to embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ. Euse- 
bius also wrote a history of the Church, from the birth of 
Christ to that time. These works of this distinguished man 
have been invaluable to succeeding generations. 

A nominal Christian emperor was now upon the throne at 
Rome. Paganism had received its death-blow. But a system 
the growth of centuries, interwoven into poetry, eloquence, 
statuary, and all the manners and customs of life, could not 
die easily. It lingered still for ages in its dying struggles, 
and made several convulsive efforts to obtain a new lease of 
life, 



CONSTANTINE. — TEE BANNER OF THE CROSS. 311 

But the conversion of Constantine, a Roman emperor, to 
Christianity, was one of the most important events in the his- 
tory of the Christian Church. It invested the new religion, 
in the eyes of the community, with dignity. It emboldened 
the timid, and inspired the resolute with new zeal. The pa- 
gans complained that nearly all were forsaking the worship of 
the gods, and joining themselves to the Christian party. 

Constantine manifested a noble spirit of toleration. He 
made no attempt to suppress the rites of paganism by force. 
" Those," he said in one of his edicts, " who are desirous of 
continuing slaves to the ancient superstition, have perfect lib- 
erty for the public exercise of their worship." 

Very resolutely he protected the Christians from outrage. 
Several Jews became converts to Christianity. The Jews 
persecuted them with vituperation and abuse. The emperor 
issued a decree, that any persons who should in future be 
guilty of a similar crime should be burned at the stake. 

The Roman world was now, as we have mentioned, divided 
into two portions ; and there were two emperors, — Constantine 
in the west, and Licinius in the east. Gradually rivalry sprang 
up between them. As Constantine had embraced Christianity, 
Licinius decided to rally to his support all the energies of pa- 
ganism. He first caused gross slanders to be circulated against 
the Christian pastors. 

He then forbade them to enter any house of the pagans, 
lest they should convert them. Next he forbade their hold- 
ing any councils, or visiting each other's churches. Growing 
more and more zealous in his persecution, he banished all 
Christians from his palace, sending several into exile, confiscat- 
ing their property, and threatening them with death. 

He forbade all women from meeting in the same assemblies 
or churches with the men, or from listening to any prayers or 
religious teachings from men. Finally he forbade the Chris- 
tians from holding any religious meetings whatever in the 
cities : they were allowed to meet only in the open air in the 
country, the emperor saying mockingly, " that the open air of 
the fields was more healthy than the confined air of a room," 



312 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

When one enters upon a career of wickedness, he invariably 
presses on with ever-increasing impetuosity. Licinius now is- 
sued a decide, that every man in governmental employ should 
offer sacrifices to the pagan gods. The wrath of Licinius 
was directed mainly against the bishops, or pastors, in con- 
sequence of the affection which they manifested for Constan- 
tine. Many churches were torn down ; others were shut 
up. Several bishops were put to death : their bodies, cut into 
small fragments, were thrown into the water as food for fishes. 
The Christians in dismay began to fly from the cities and vil- 
lages, and to seek refuge among the mountains. 

In the city of Sebaste, in Armenia, there were in one of the 
regiments forty young men who were Christians. The govern- 
or, Agricola, ordered them to sacrifice to the idols. Unitedly 
and firmly they refused. The governor, having exhausted the 
power of promises and menaces, devised a new form of torture 
and death. 

It was a cold climate, and mid-winter. In a night of freez- 
ing wind and bitter cold, these forty young men were exposed, 
with no clothing, upon a high scaffold swept by the wintry 
blast. By the side of the scaffold was a room, in which were 
glowing fires, ample clothing, and a warm bath. Any one 
who would renounce Christ might descend from the scaffold, 
and immediately enjoy all the comforts which warmth and 
clothing could give. 

The young men encouraged each other, saying, that, after a 
few hours of suffering, they would all meet in a happy, heavenly 
home. One only of the number failed : in the intensity of his 
anguish he denied Christ, descended from the scaffold, and 
plunged into a warm bath, where he instantly died. One of the 
attendants in charge of the baths was so moved by this, that 
he immediately declared himself a Christian, and, divesting him- 
self of his clothing, took his place upon the scaffold, by the side of 
the freezing disciples. The morning came. They were all nearly 
dead, with their extremities badly frozen. A huge funeral-pyre 
was erected: the still-breathing bodies were placed upon it; the 
torch was applied, and their bodies were burned to ashes 



CONSTANTINE. — TEE BANNER OF THE CROSS. 313 

One of the young men, of vigorous constitution, had not 
suffered so much as the rest from the cold. The executioners 
tried to persuade him to recant, and to save himself from the 
fire. His Christian mother stood by. Nerved by that sublime 
faith which seemed to inspire the early Christians in those 
days of martyrdom, she said, — 

"Go, my son, and finish with your comrades this short 
journey, that you may not be one of the last to appear in the 
presence of your God." 

In the mean time, Constantine was more and more favoring 
the Christians. He issued edicts recommending the univer- 
sal observance of the Lord's day ; he abolished all those laws 
which forbade Christians when dying to bequeath their prop- 
erty to the Church ; and he forbade the cross from ever again 
being used as an instrument of punishment. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



THE CONVERSION OF CONSTANTINE. 



►he Arian Controversy. — Sanguinary Conflict between Paganism and Christian 
ity. — Founding of Constantinople. — The Council of Nice. — Its Decision.— 
Duplicity of some of the Arians. — The Nicene Creed. — Tragic Scene in the 
Life of Constantine. — His Penitence and true Conversion. — His Baptism, and 
Reception into the Church. — Charles V. — The Emperor Napoleon I. 



'HE Arian controversy, which subsequently so 
distracted the Church, commenced about this 
time, — A. D. 318. Arias, a pastor of Alexan- 
dria, introduced the doctrine, that the Son was 
not equal to the Father ; that he was created by 
him, and that there consequently was a time 
when the Son did not exist. 
This denial of the divinity of Christ, and consequently of the 
doctrine of the Trinity, involved, as it was deemed, the neces- 
sary denial of the stone which was regarded as the fundamental 
doctrine of Christianity, — the corner-stone upon which the 
whole edifice of the salvation of sinners was reared. The con- 
troversy greatly agitated the Church for ages, and has not fully 
subsided even to the present day. 

As Constantine had embraced the cause of the Christians, 
and Licinius that of the pagan party, it is not strange that 
the two emperors should soon find themselves arrayed in arms 
against each other. On the 13th of July, 324, the two armies 
of the rival emperors met near Adrianople. 1 Licinius had a 




1 Histoire du Christianisme, par PAddS Fleury, 1. 1. p. $32, 



§1^ 



THE CONVERSION OF CONSTANTINE. 315 

hundred and fifty thousand infantry and fifteen thousand cav- 
alry : Constantine had a hundred and twenty thousand in- 
fantry and ten thousand cavalry. It was clearly understood 
on both sides that it was a battle between the two religions, as 
in olden time between God and Baal. 

Constantine took with him as chaplains several Christian 
bishops. The banner of the cross, like the ancient ark of the 
covenant, was very conspicuously borne before the troops. 
Constantine set apart the day before the battle for a season 
of fasting and prayer with his whole army. 

Licinius gathered around him the magicians of Egypt and 
the idolatrous priests. The most imposing sacrifices were of- 
fered to the pagan gods. He assembled all his officers in a 
grove filled with idols, and thus addressed them : — 

" Behold, my friends, the gods of our fathers, whom we honoi 
as we have been taught to do by them ! Our adversary has 
abandoned them for I know not what strange God, whose in- 
famous standard profanes his army. This battle will decide 
which of us is in error. 

" Should the strange God of Constantine, whom we deride, 
give him the victory, notwithstanding our superiority in num- 
bers, we shall be compelled to recognize him. If, on the con- 
trary, our gods should give us the victory, — of which there 
can be no doubt, — we will utterly exterminate those wretches 
who have rejected them." 

Eusebius records this speech, saying that he received it from 
the lips of those who heard it. 1 

The battle raged fiercely from dawn till dark. In the night 
Licinius fled, leaving twenty thousand of his soldiers dead 
upon the field, and abandoning his camp and all his magazines. 
Gathering recruits as he retreated, he made another stand on 
the plains of Thrace. Constantine, who had vigorously pursued, 
again attacked him, and nearly annihilated his army. Erom a 
force of a hundred and thirty thousand men, scarcely three 
thousand escaped. Licinius fled to the mountains of Mace- 
donia, and sued for peace. Constantine, out of regard to his 
1 Eust&ius, yit. Ui Q. 3$. 



316 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

sister Constantia, treated his brother-in-law generously. He, 
however, wrested from him nearly all his domains in Europe, 
leaving him sovereign only in Asia and Egypt. 

Eight years of comparative tranquillity passed away, when 
the two emperors again found themselves in arms against each 
other. Licinius, though an infirm old man, displayed on the 
occasion amazing energy. He assembled on the fields of 
Thrace a hundred and fifty thousand infantry and fifteen 
thousand horse. The Bosphorus and the Hellespont were 
crowded with his fleet of three hundred and fifty galleys, with 
three banks of oars. Constantine met them with a hundred 
and twenty thousand horse and foot and two hundred trans- 
ports. There was another of those awful scenes of blood and 
woe called a battle. How faintly can imagination picture the 
scene! — two hundred and eighty-five thousand men hurling 
themselves against each other in the most desperate hand-to- 
iiand fight ; the cry of onset, the clangor of weapons, the shrieks 
of death. In a few hours, thirty thousand of the troops of 
Licinius were dead in their blood. The monarch himself, with 
the disordered remainder of his troops, fled wildly to Byzan- 
tium. 

There was a long and cruel siege. Constantine was victori- 
ous : the world was again under one monarch, and he a nominal 
Christian. This extraordinary man issued a decree to his sub- 
jects, especially to those of his newly-conquered Eastern empire, 
assuring them of his conviction that the God of the Christians, 
the true and Almighty God, had given him the victory over 
the powers of paganism, in order that the worship of the true 
God might be universally diffused. He also issued the follow- 
ing prayer : — 

" I invoke thy blessing, Supreme God ! Be gracious to all 
bhy citizens of the Eastern provinces ; bestow on them salvation 
through me, thy servant. And well may I ask this of the Lord 
of the universe, Holy God ; for by the guidance of thy hand 
have I undertaken and accomplished salutary things. Thy 
banner, the cross, everywhere precedes my armies : whenever 
I advance against the enemy, I follow the cross, the symbol 



The conversion of constantine. 317 

of thy power. Hence I consecrate to thee my soul imbued 
with love and fear. Sincerely I love thy name ; and I venerate 
thy power, which thou hast revealed to me by so many proofs, 
and by which thou hast confirmed my faith." 

This would be deemed extraordinary language to appear in 
the proclamation of any, even of the most Christian monarch of . 
the present day. How much more remarkable must it have 
seemed coming from a Ronian emperor just emerging from 
paganism, and addressed to the whole Roman world ! 

It was the wish of Constantine that Christianity might be 
the recognized religion of the empire, and that all his subjects 
might be united in the worship of the one true God. Still he 
favored perfect toleration. Yet Christianity was every way 
encouraged. Distinguished Christians were placed in the 
highest offices of state. Chaplains were appointed in the army. 
Though no compulsion was exercised, all the soldiers were in- 
vited and encouraged to attend public worship. 

The city of Rome for a long time had ceased to be the only 
capital ; and Constantine chose, with great sagacity, Byzan- 
tium, at the month of the Bosphorus, as the new capital, giving 
it the name of Constantinople, after himself. This imperial 
city enjoyed a very salubrious clime, and occupied a position, 
for the accumulation of wealth and the exercise of power, un- 
surpassed by that of any other spot upon the globe. It was sit- 
uated upon an eminence which commanded an extensive view 
of the shores of Europe and Asia, with the beautiful Straits of 
the Bosphorus flowing down from the Black Sea on the north, 
emptying into the Sea of Marmora, and thence descending 
through the Dardanelles, or Hellespont, to the Mediterranean 
on the south. These were avenues of approach through which 
no foe could penetrate. The city was favored with a harbor, 
called the Golden Horn, spacious and secure. The site of Con- 
stantinople seems to have been designed by Nature for the 
metropolis of universal European dominion. 

The wealth, energy, and artistic genius of the whole Roman 
empire were immediately called into requisition to enlarge and 
beautify the new metropolis. The boundaries of the city were 



SiS HISTORY OF CBRlSTIANtTt. 

marked out fourteen miles in circumference. Almost incredi- 
ble sums of money were expended in rearing the city walls, and 
in works of public utility and beauty. The forests which then 
frowned unbroken along the shores of the Euxine Sea afforded 
an inexhaustible supply of timber A quarry of white marble, 
easily accessible, upon a neighboring island, furnished any 
desired amount of that important building-material. 

The imperial palace soon rose in splendor which Rome had 
never surpassed. With its courts, gardens, porticoes, and bath?, 
is covered several acres. The ancient cities of the empire, 
including Some itself, were despoiled of their noble fami- 
lies, who were persuaded to remove to the new metropolis to 
add lustre to its society. Magnificent mansions were reared 
for them. The revenues of wide domains were assigned for 
the support of their dignity. Thus the splendors of decaying 
Kome upon the Tiber were eclipsed by the rising towers of 
Constantinople upon the Bosphorus. 

Few men have been more warmly applauded, or more bitterly 
condemned, than Constantine. Fifteen centuries have passed 
away since his death, and still he is the subject of the most 
venomous denunciation and the most impassioned praise. He 
was in person tall, graceful, majestic / with features of the 
finest mould. Intellectually he was also highly endowed. 
None of the ordinary vices of the timos stained his character. 
Conscious of his superior abilities, and sustained by the popu- 
lar voice, he pursued a career to which we find no parallels in 
history. 

The Arian controversy was now greatly agitating the Church. 
The emperor, having in vain endeavored to quiet it by a letter, 
decided to call an ecumenical council ; that is, a general coun- 
< '1 of bishops from all parts of the world. It was a measure 
then without an example. 

The city of Nice, one of the principal cities of Bythinia, 
was selected for the assembly. Three hundred and eighteen 
bishops met, besides a large number of subordinate ecclesias- 
tics. The emperor defrayed the necessary expenses of the 
members of the council. The session was opened on the 19th 



THE CONVERSION OF CONSTANTINE. S19 

of June, in the year of our Lord 325. The meeting was held 
in the large saloon of the palace, with benches arranged on 
either side for the bishops. The members of the council first 
entered, and silently took their seats : they were followed by 
a small group of the distinguished friends of the emperor. 
Then, upon a given signal, all rose, and the emperor himself 
?ame in. He was robed in imperial purple, and his gorgeous 
attire glistened with embroidery of gems and gold. A golden 
throne was prepared for him at the end of the hall, where he 
took his seat to preside over the deliberations. 

One of the most prominent of the bishops, Eustache of An- 
tioch, then rose, and, in the name of the council, thanked the 
emperor for all the favors he had conferred upon Christianity. 
The emperor briefly replied, expressing the joy he felt in pre- 
siding over such an assembly, and his hope that they might 
come to a perfectly harmonious result. He spoke in Latin, his 
native language. An interpreter repeated his words in Greek 
for the benefit of those who were most familiar with that lan- 
guage. 

The council continued in session until the 25th of August, 
— sixty-seven days. The principal, the almost exclusive at- 
tention of the council was directed to the new doctrine of 
Arius, — that Christ, the Son, was not equal to the Father, but 
was created by him, and was subordinate to him. The decision 
of the council, called the Nicene Creed, rebuked, in the most 
emphatic terms, the Arian doctrine as heresy. Its language 
upon this point was as follows : — 

" We believe in one only God, Father all-powerful, Creator 
of all things visible and invisible ; and in one only Lord Jesus 
Christ, the only Son, engendered of the Father (that is to say, 
of the substance of the Father), God of God, Light of Ligtt, 
very God of very God, begotten and not made, consubstantial 
with the Father, through whom every thing has been made in 
heaven and on earth ; who for us men, and for our salvation, 
has descended from the skies, has become incarnate and made 
man, has suffered, rose on the third day, ascended to the skies, 
and will come to judge the living and the dead." 



• 



§20 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Thus words were heaped upon words, to express, beyond all 
possibility of doubt, the sense of the council of the entire 
equality of the Son with the Father. The Arians seemed dis- 
posed to accept the same language used by the Trinitarians, 
while they affixed a different signification to the words. 

" The bishops," writes the Abbe Fleury, " seeing the dis- 
simulation of the Arians, and their bad faith, were constrained, 
that they might express their meaning more unequivocally, 
to include in a single word the sense of the Scriptures, and 
to say that the Son is consubstantial with the Father, making 
use of the Greek word homoousios, which this dispute has 
since rendered so celebrated. They thus declared that the 
Son was not only like the Father, but the same, — identical 
with him. 

All the bishops but two signed this creed. After some con- 
ference, those two signed also. 

" It is said," writes Susebius, — " and it is Philistorge, an 
Arian author, who says it, — that these two, Eusebius of Nico- 
media, and Theognis of Nice, used fraud in their subscriptions, 
which they made together. They inserted the letter i in the 
word homoousios , so that it read homoiousios ; which signifies 
similar to, not identically the same" 

The doctrine of Arius was thus condemned, as contrary to 
the teachings of the Scriptures, by this numerous council of 
pastors from all parts of the then known world. Several 
other subjects of minor importance were discussed, and decided 
upon. The Holy Spirit was declared to be also, like the Son, 
equal with the Father, and identically the same. The emperor 
wrote a letter, which was published with the decrees of coun- 
cil, urging that they should be accepted in all the churches. 
" The results," said he, " of these sacred deliberations of the 
bishops, must be in accordance with the will of God." In the 
most severe terms he condemned the doctrine of Arius, com- 
manding that his writings, wherever found, should be burned. 
It was a dark age. Toleraticn was but little known. The 
emperor even went to the unwarrantable length of saying, — 

" Whoever shall conceal any thing which Arius has written, 



TEE CONVERSION OF CONSTANTINE. 321 

instead of delivering it up to be burned, shall be put to death 
immediately upon being taken." 

Conversions from paganism were becoming frequent and 
numerous. Under the fostering care of the emperor, churches 
rose all over the land. 

A tragic event in the life of this extraordinary man deserves 
record. His second wife was a beautiful woman named Fausta, 
much younger than himself. She was about the age of the 
emperor's very handsome son Crispus. Fausta fell in love 
with the young man. Virtuously he repelled her advances. 
It is written, — 

" Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." 

Fausta rushed to Constantine, and accused Crispus of atro- 
cious crime. The imperial father, in the frenzy of his rage, 
ordered his innocent son to be led instantly to execution. His 
headless body was hardly in the tomb ere the truth of his 
wife's guilt and his son's innocence was made known to the 
unhappy emperor beyond all possibility of doubt. In the de- 
lirium of his anguish, he ordered Fausta to be drowned in her 
bath. 

Henceforward, for Constantine, life was but a dismal day. 
He never recovered from the gloom of these events ; and it 
is said that he was never known to smile again. For forty 
days he fasted, weeping and groaning, and denying himself 
all comforts. He erected a golden statue to Crispus, with this * 
simple, pathetic inscription : — 

"To my Son, whom I unjustly condemned." 

The conversion of Constantine to Christianity was at first 
intellectual only, not the regeneration of the heart. He was 
a nominal Christian, believing in Christ. Still there is no 
evidence that he had been born again of the Holy Spirit, or 
that he had accepted Christ as his personal, atoning Saviour. 
The cares and sorrows of life tend to lead every thoughtful 
mind to Jesus. Constantine had become a world-weary, heart- 
broken old man, sixty-four years of age. Eapidly-increasing 
infirmities admonished him that he must soon appear before 



322 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

the judgment-seat of Christ, — before that Saviour whose au- 
thority his intellect had been constrained to recognize, but to 
whom, as yet, he had not fully surrendered his heart. 

Deeply depressed in spirits, and sinking beneath his mala- 
dies, he retired to some warm springs in Asia. Death was 
slowly but steadily approaching. Constantine repaired to the 
church, and with tears and prayers, and deep searchings of 
soul, sought preparation to meet God. Having obtained, as 
he thought, assurance that his sins were forgiven, he assembled 
all the bishops of the neighboring churches in his palace, near 
the city of Nicomedia, and, with as much publicity as could 
be exercised Without ostentation, confessed his Saviour before 
men, received the rite of baptism, and the sacrament of the 
Lord's Supper. 

Eusebius, the renowned Bishop of Nicomedia, performed 
the rite of baptism, and administered the sacred elements. It 
is to the pen of this illustrious bishop that we are indebted 
for most of the incidents in relation to the religious history 
of Constantine. From this time until his death, which oc- 
curred soon after, he seemed to live as a sincere and devout 
follower of the Redeemer. Eusebius says, " Constantine, on 
receiving baptism, determined to govern himself henceforth, in 
the minutest particulars, by God's worthy laws of life." 

The emperor died at Nicomedia on the 21st of May, in the 
year 337. He was sixty-four years of age, and had reigned 
thirty-one years. This was the longest reign of any Roman 
emperor since the days of Augustus Caesar. His funeral was 
attended with all the marks of homage which love and grati- 
tude and imperial power could confer. 

How singular and how touching are these triumphs of Chris- 
tianity ! The poor benighted slave in his cheerless hut, bleed- 
ing and dying beneath the lash, finds in the religion of Jesus 
that peace and joy to which the monarch in his palace is often 
a stranger. The martyr in the dungeon, wan and wasted with 
material misery, with pallid lips sings hallelujahs to Him who 
hath redeemed him to God by his blood. 

The imperial Constantine, robed in the purple of nearly uni- 



THE CONVERSION OF CONSTANTINE. 323 

versal empire, in the gorgeous palace of Nicomedia, surrounded 
with all the pomp and splendor of an Oriental monarch, finds 
his heart yearn for those consolations which the religion of 
Jesus alone can give. He hows his head to the water of bap- 
tism ; he partakes of the sacred bread and wine of the Lord's 
Supper, solemnly, devoutly, tearfully ; and finally, when sink- 
ing away in death, he breathes the prayer* " Lord Jesus, re- 
ceive my spirit." 

A few centuries rolled away, and there was another monarch, 
the Emperor Charles V., whose sceptre ruled almost the whole 
known world. Weary of life, and oppressed with the sense of 
sin, he sought a religious retreat in the solitary Vale of Estre- 
madura. In the cloisters of the Convent of St. Justus the 
abdicated emperor wept over his sins, and sought forgiveness 
through the atoning Saviour. He announced to the whole 
world his penitence, and his trust in Jesus. The regal mind, 
which had proudly stood untottering beneath the cares of uni- 
versal empire, bowed in humble submission to the religion of 
Jesus, which alone can meet the yearnings of the humble and 
contrite soul. 

A few centuries pass, and another emperor arises who at- 
tracts the gaze of the world. Neither Const antine nor Charles 
V. wielded a sceptre, which, in the elements of grandeur and 
power, surpassed that of Napoleon I. Look at the dethroned 
monarch, as, through the long agony of St. Helena, he sinks 
into the grave. He, before whose imperial will all Europe 
had bowed, was dying upon his miserable pallet at Longwood. 
That eagle eye was dimmed with tears, as, bolstered up in his 
bed, with penitence for sin, and avowed trust in^ the atoning 
Saviour, he received the emblems of that body which was 
broken, and that blood which was shed, for our sins : then, a 
peaceful penitent, surrendering himself to the arms of that 
Saviour who has said, " Whoso cometh unto me I will in no 
wise cast out," he fell asleep ; we trust, 

" Asleep in Jesus ! — blessed sleep ! 
From which none ever wake to weep." 

How signal are these triumphs of Christianity ! — triumphs 



324 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

which fill so many pages of history and biography. How beau- 
tiful is this religion of Jesus in its adaptation to every con- 
ceivable condition and want of life ! The Emperor Constantine, 
master of the world, with almost limitless power in his hand 
and boundless wealth in his lap, needs this religion just as 
much as the humblest slave or the feeblest child in his realms. 
There is no royal road to heaven. Constantine, like all others, 
could only find peace by penitence for sin, the public acknowl- 
edgment of his faith in an atoning Saviour, and the prayerful 
consecration of himself to God. You and I, my readers, can 
find salvation only where Constantine found it. There is bat 
one door through which we can enter the heavenly kingdom : 
that door is Christ. 



~~~- »?' -.--- 



CHAPTER XVn. 



JULIAN THE APOSTATE. 



The Devotion of Constantins to Christianity. — Constantius and the Barbarians. — 
Conspiracy of Magnentiufl. — The Decisive Battle. — Decay of Rome. — Fearful 
Retribution. — Noble Sentiments of the Bishop of Alexandria. —Death of Con- 
stantius. — Gallus and Julian. — Julian enthroned. —His Apostasy. — His War- 
fare against Chi tstianity.— Unavailing Attempt to rebuild Jerusalem.— Per- 
secution.— His Expedition to the East, and Painful Death. 



'HE Christian Emperor Constantine, during his 
reign, issued many earnest appeals to his sub- 
jects, entreating them to abandon paganism, and 
embrace Christianity. Heliopolis, in Phoenicia, 
was a heathen city, which had surrendered itself 
to the most degrading and abominable rites of 
idolatry. There was not a single known Chris- 
tian in the city. 

The* emperor sent workmen to the place, and, at his own ex- 
pense, erected a very beautiful church edifice. He then selected 
several clergymen of marked ability, and commissioned them 
to preach the gospel there. At the same time he placed in the 
hands of the pastors a large sum of money for the relief of the 
poor, saying, — 

" I hope that the conversion of the souls of the pagans may 
be promoted by doing good to their bodies." 

The most convincing evidence which the community in gen- 
eral can have of the reality of the Christian religion is to be 
found in the lives of its professors. When we compare the 

325 




326 



BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 



Christian Const antine with most of the pagan emperors who 
had gone before him, all must be impressed with the greatness 
of the change. 

The palace is a dangerous place for the education and the 
training of children. Constantine had three sons, who bore 
severally the names of Constantine. Constantius, and Constans : 
they were all dissipated. Upon the death of their father, the 
empire was divided between them. The eldest son, Constan- 
tine, who was twenty-one years of age, had assigned to him 
Spain, Gaul (now France), and all the territory west of the 
Alps. Constantius, who was but twenty years old, took Asia 
and Egypt. Constans, who had attained but seventeen years, 
received, as his share, Italy and Africa. 1 

Constantine the father, with his vigorous arm, had held the 
barbarians in check. God had apparently heard his prayers, and 
had given him the victory over his enemies. His death was the 
signal for a general war. Constaatius, in the East, was soon 
struggling against an inundation of Tartar tribes. The usual 
scenes of blood and misery ensued, as the hostile armies, now 
in surging waves of victory, now in the refluent billows of de- 
feat, swept the doomed land. 

While Constantius was thus engaged struggling against the 
barbarians on the plains of Asia, Constantine was plotting an 
expedition against his brother Constans, who was a mere boy, 
proud, conceited, and incompetent. But the race is not al- 
ways to the swift. Constantine, with a large army, crossed the 
Julian Alps, and invaded Italy to wre^t that kingdom from 
bis brother. But Constans, whom Constantine had despised, 
had able generals. They lured Constantine into an ambush, 
routed his army, killed him, and annexed all his realms to the 
Western empire. 

Soon after this, a sturdy general, Magnentius, formed a con- 
spiracy in the army, killed young Constans, and was pro- 
claimed emperor by the soldiers. All the Western and Central 
realms acknowledged him. 

Constantius, from the East, put his veteran army in motion, 

1 Histoire du Christianisme, par l'Abb6 Fleury, t. i. p. 480. 



JULIAN TEE APOSTATE. 327 

and advanced from the plains of Mesopotamia to make war 
upon Magnentius and to avenge his brother's death. The whole 
then known world was thrown into commotion by this strife, 
which was to decide who should be master of this world. War 
and woe held high carnival. There were famine, pestilence, 
and death, smouldering towns, blood-stained fields covered 
with the slain, and despairing shrieks of widows and orphans. 

The hostile armies met in vast numbers on the Biver Drave. 
not far from its entrance into the Danube. It was one of those 
battles which was to decide the fate of the world. Constantius, 
aware of the military ability of his antagonist, wisely, but not 
heroically, retired to the tower of a church where he could over- 
look the field. He left the conduct of the day to one of his 
veteran generals. 

A fiercer battle than that which ensued was perhaps never 
fought. Eoman and barbarian legions were intermingled, 
blending in the fight. The air was darkened with stones, 
arrows, and javelins. Clouds of horsemen, glittering in their - 
polished armor, swept the field like moving statues of steel, 
trampling the dead and wounded beneath iron hoofs. Night 
terminated the conflict. 

The army of Magnentius, overpowered by numbers, was 
almost annihilated. Fifty-four thousand were left dead upon 
the field. They sold their lives dearly. A still greater number 
of the troops of Constantius lay drenched in blood by their 
side. Over a hundred and twenty thousand perished in this 
one battle. Thus did Rome, in civil strife, devour her own 
children. Thus was the way opened for the irruption and 
triumph of the barbarians. 

In the darkness of night, Magnentius, throwing aside his 
imperial mantle, mounted a fleet horse, and, accompanied by 
a few friends, attempted to escape through the Julian Alps. 
He reached the city of Aquileia, at the head of the Adriatic 
Sea, not far from the present city of Trieste. Here, amidst 
the pathless defiles of the mountains, he rallied his surviving 
troops around him, and made another stand. 

But city after city abandoned his cause, and raised the ban- 



328 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

ner of the victorious Constantius. He then fled to Gaul. Con- 
stantius vigorously pursued him. At length, hedged in on 
every side, the wretched Magnentius, in despair, terminated 
his life hy falling upon his own sword. He thus obtained an 
easier death than he could have hoped for from his foe. 

Thus was the whole Roman world again brought under the 
sway of a single sovereign. Constantius, the son of Constan- 
tine the Great, reigned without a rival, from the western shores 
of Britain to the River Tigris, and from the unexplored realms 
of Central Germany to the interior of Africa. But over these 
wide realms there was nowhere happiness or peace. The be- 
nevolence of God seemed to be thwarted by the wickedness of 
mankind. 

The Goths, in merciless bands, were sweeping over Gaul, 
leaving the path behind them crimsoned with blood, and black- 
ened with smouldering ruins. Germanic tribes, pitiless as 
wolves, were flocking across the Danube, darkening the air 
with the smoke of burning villages, and rending the skies with 
the shrieks of their victims. From the vast plains of Tartary, 
bands of shaggy monsters, fierce as the beasts which roamed 
their wilds, came rushing across the eastern frontier into the 
war-scathed empire. There was peace nowhere. Every day 
brought its battles and its woes. 

The ancient city of Rome, no longer the capital of* the em- 
pire, was now crumbling to decay. Constantius, from curiosity, 
visited it. He found the population still immense, and was 
received by the inhabitants with great enthusiasm. The im- 
perial palace wdiich he occupied had entertained no royal guest 
for thirty-two years. After spending a month in the city, 
admiring the monuments of genius and art which were spread 
over the seven hills, he was suddenly recalled to meet an ap- 
palling irruption of the barbarians from the Danube. They 
were ravaging that wide and beautiful valley with every con 
ceivable atrocity, and had already captured many thousand 
Romans, — men, women, and children, — whom they were 
carrying as slaves into their inaccessible wilds. Among these 
prisoners were men of the highest rank, and ladies of refine- 
ment and beauty. 



JULIAN THE APOSTATE. 329 

Constantius placed himself at the head of a veteran army, and 
pursued the barbarians with such vigor as to compel them to 
drop many of their captives and much of their plunder, and 
to retreat in confusion to their forest-glades. He then turned 
his legions towards the east, and hurried along by forced march- 
es towards the River Euphrates. Here a barbarian chieftain, 
called Sapor, was ravaging Mesopotamia with an army of a 
hundred thousand savage men from the wilds of Tartary. 

The Roman emperor was prosecuting with great vigor this 
arduous campaign, when he heard the tidings of a revolt in 
Gaul, and that the army there had proclaimed its general as 
emperor. Burning witli rage, he commenced a rapid march 
with his legions towards the west, when he was seized with vio- 
lent sicknesc which arrested his steps. While languishing on 
a bed of pain, with the sceptre of imperial power crumbling in 
his hands, and death staring him in the face, the sins of his 
life rose appallingly before him. It soon beer me manifest that 
his earthly career was drawing to a close. 

Constantius had been politically in favor of Christianity as 
the religion of the State. He regarded the pagan party as his 
political enemy. Destitute himself of the spirit of Christiani- 
ty, he commenced the unrelenting persecution of his pagan 
adversaries, confiscating their property, and sending them to 
the rack, the dungeon, and the stake. 

It is remarkable all through history, how, under the govern- 
ment of God, there seems to be developed a system of retribu- 
tion. We ever meet that principle in the biography of indi- 
viduals, and in the vicissitudes of nations. The pagans had 
persecuted the Christians with cruelty which demons could not 
have surpassed ; and now God allowed a bad man, a Christian 
in name only, to torture the pagans with the same weapons 
which they had so pitilessly wielded. It is a fact, which every 
Christian will read with pleasure, that the true disciples of 
Jesus remonstrated against this retaliation. Athanasius, Bishop 
of Alexandria, earnestly expostulating, wrote, — 

"When men resort to persecution, it is evident that they 
want confidence in their own faith. Satan, because there is 



330 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

no truth in him ; pays away with hatchet and sword. The 
- Saviour is so gentle, that he only says, i Whosoever will, let him 
be my disciple.' He forces none. He knocks at the door of 
the soul, and says, ' Open to me, my sister/ If the door is 
opened, he goes in. It is the character of true piety not to 
force, but to convince." 

The emperor was influenced by political considerations only. 
He regarded the pagan party simply as his antagonists, who 
sought his overthrow that they might grasp the reins of power. 
In co-operation with his court, he ordered the demolition of 
their temples, and directed all the energies of fire and sword 
to the demolition of the idolaters. Thus the flames of perse- 
cution, which once consumed the Christians, now blazed almost 
as fiercely in wrapping the pagans in their fiery folds. 

Such was the condition of the world towards the close of the 
fourth century. Onristianity had undermined all the temples 
of idolatry, and was enthroned as the established religion of 
the Roman empire. Ambitious men rallied about it as a great 
political power. Wicked men nominally embraced it as an 
essential step to worldly advancement. Christianity had thus, 
perhaps, more to fear from favoritism than fiom persecution. 
Unprincipled men, grasping at wealth and power, embraced 
Christianity merely as an instrument for the promotion of 
their own temporal aggrandizement. They hated its spiritual 
teachings, and endeavored to make it a religion of dead doc- 
trines and of pompous ceremonies, rather than a rule to govern 
heart and life. They crucified Christianity while crown- 
ing it. 

Lured by hopes of court favor and preferment, many who 
were still in heart pagans had hypocritically professed Chris- 
tianity. Corruption thus crept into the Church. To concili- 
ate the ignorant idolatrous populace, and to lure them into the 
Christian churches, the pomp and pageantry of pagan rites 
were introduced to supplant the unostentatious and simple 
ordinances of the gospel. Hence the origin of those theatric 
shows which are still Che prominent features in the worship of 
the Church at Rome. 



JULIAN THE APOSTATE. 331 

The death-bed of Constantius was that of an awakened and 
despairing sinner. He had been a wicked man. He had 
known his duty ; for he had enjoyed the teachings of a Chris- 
tian father. He had also heard the faithful preaching of the 
gospel. 

Death brings all to the same level: the emperor and his 
1 umblest slave are upon an equality in that dread hour. As 
one reads the record of the remorse of the dying Constantius, 
he may say, — 

"By many a death-bed I have been, 
By many a sinner's parting scene, 
But never aught like this." 

As the moment drew near when his spirit, leaving the body, 
was to be transported to God's bar, he trembled, and cried aloud 
for mercy. He gathered the most devout of the clergy around 
his bedside, and entreated them to pray for him. 

Professing heart-felt repentance, the dying monarch im- 
plored that the rite of baptism and that of the Lord's Supper 
might be administered to him. He received both of these or- 
dinances, and still found but little peace. There are doubtless 
death-bed repentances ; but they are very rare. It is only by 
living the life of the righteous that one can expect to know by 
blessed experience what it is " sweetly to fall asleep in Jesus." 
Trembling, hoping, despairing, the imperial sinner passed away 
into the vast unknown. 

How deep is the shade of melancholy which lingers around 
these sad recitals ! Where now are those monarchs who once 
ruled the world ? Where now are the soldiers of those throng- 
ing armies, which, fourteen centuries ago, swept the nations 
with billows of flame and blood ? 

And where shall we all be when a few more of these fleeting- 
years shall have passed away ? Is it wise to live for this world 
alone, when life is such a vapor, and when we are so soon to be 
ushered into the dread scenes of eternity ? There is a voice, 
solemn as the grave, coming up to us from all these past ages, 
saying, " Prepare to meet thy God." 



332 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

" The sun is but a spark of fire, 
A transient meteor in the sky: 
The soul, immortal as its Sire, 
Shall never die." 

The three sons of Constantine the Great were now dead 
Neither of them left a male heir. Constantius had two cousins, 
of whom, during his whole life, he had always stood in great 
dread, lest they should aspire to the crown. He had caused 
them both to be arrested and imprisoned. Though thus held 
as captives, they were bound, as it were, with golden chains. 
A magnificent palace was assigned them, where they were 
provided with every luxury. They were, however, closely 
guarded, not being allowed to leave the spacious grounds of 
the palace. They were permitted to see such company only 
as the emperor would admit to their presence. 

At length, Constantius had appointed Gallus, the elder of 
these brothers, viceroy of the Eastern empire. Gallus took up 
his residence at Antioch, and immediately released his brother 
Julian, and received him at his court. Constantius, in a fit of 
jealousy and rage, caused Gallus to be assassinated. He also 
re-arrested Julian, and confined him for seven months in a 
castle at Milan, where the imprisoned prince daily expected to 
meet the doom of his brother. Through the intercession of 
Eusebia, the wife of Constantius, the life of Julian was spared. 
He was sent into honorable exile to the city of Athens. 

Julian had from childhood developed unusual scholarly and 
philosophic tastes. In the groves of the Academy at Athens 
he had devoted himself assiduously to the cultivation of Greek 
literature. When Constantius set out on his military expedi- 
tion to the Euphrates, he named Julian as his heir to the throne, 
and also directed him to take charge of an army to beat back 
the barbarians who were ravaging the Valley of the Danube 
and the Rhine. As Julian, the man of books, the bashful, 
retiring scholar, received this appointment, he exclaimed, " 
Plato, Plato ! what a task for a philosopher ! " 

Julian, enamoured of the classic literature of Greece and 
Rome, had become an actual worshipper at the idolatious 



SVLlAtf TSE APOSTATE. 333 

shrines of the pagans. He loved poetic dreamings, and rev- 
elled in the wild mythology of his ancestors. He was just one 
of those men whom we now politely call conservative men, or, 
more irreverently, old fogies. He clung to ancient supersti- 
tions and rotten abuses, and was quite opposed to the innova- 
tions and reforms which Christianity would introduce. 

But suddenly he developed traits of character which surprised 
every one. He entered the camp, shared the coarse food and 
the hardships of the meanest soldiers, and developed military 
ability of the highest order. At Strasburg on the Rhine, in 
command of but thirteen thousand men, he assailed, and after 
a terrific battle put to flight, thirty-five thousand of the fiercest 
barbarians of the North. In the heat of this hard-fought bat- 
tle, six hundred Roman cuirassiers, overpowered by the enemy, 
in a panic fled. Julian punished them by dressing them in 
women's robes, and marching them along his lines amidst the 
derision of the whole army. 

He crossed the Danube with his heroic troops, and advanced 
boldly into the almost unknown regions of the north, cutting 
down the German tribes mercilessly before him. He liberated, 
and restored to their homes, twenty thousand Roman captives 
who had been carried off as slaves into these wilds. 

Julian, on his return from this successful expedition, repaired 
to Paris for his winter quarters. Three centuries before this 
time, Julius Caesar had found this now-renowned city a mere 
collection of fishermen's huts on a small island in the Seine. 
It was called Lutetia, which signified The Place of Mire. Since 
then the wretched little village had gradually increased. The 
small, marshy island had become entirely covered with houses. 
Two wooden bridges connected it with the shore. Julian was 
much pleased with the place, and built him a palace there. 

Constantius was at this time in the Valley of the Euphrates, 
contending, as we have mentioned, against Sapor. He became 
jealous of the renown which Julian was acquiring. To weaken 
him, and thus to prevent bis gaining any more victories, he 
ordered a large pcrtion of his army to be withdrawn from Gaul, 
and sent to the Euphrates. Julian easily induced his soldiers 



334 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

to refuse to go. Clashing their weapons, they rallied around 
their commander, and, with loud huzzas, declared him to be 
their emperor. 

Constantius, foaming with rage, put his army in motion to 
march to Gaul for the destruction of his rival. He had but 
reached Tarsus in Cilicia, the birthplace of the apostle Paul, 
when he died. 

Such was the history of Julian before his assumption of 
the imperial diadem. He was at the head of his army, just 
entering the defiles of the Alps, hurrying to meet Constantius 
in battle, when he heard the welcome tidings of his death. 
Julian was then thirty-two years of age. With great eager- 
ness he pressed on to Constantinople, where he was crowned 
emperor on the 11th of December, 361. 

This extraordinary man now resolved to restore paganism, 
and to abolish and utterly annihilate Christianity. Publicly, 
and with imposing ceremonies, he made a renunciation of the 
Christian religion, and committed himself to the care of the 
pagan gods. As the conversion of the Emperor Constantino 
was one of the most signal events in the history of the Church, 
so was the apostasy of the Emperor Julian one of the memo- 
rable events in the history of mankind. A bolder act of 
infidelity and atheism has perhaps never been recorded in the 
annals of our race. 

Even the infidel Gibbon, in allusion to it, and to the invet- 
erate zeal with which Julian persecuted the Christians, quotes 
the soul-stirring words of Milton in reference to the apostate 
angel Satan, as from hell's dark domains he winged his flight 
for the seduction and ruin of our race : — 

" So eagerly the Fiend 
O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, 
"With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, 
And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies." 

Thus Julian pressed on inexorably till death, endeavoring 
to crush the religion of Jesus, and to reinstate the gorgeous 
but senseless mummeries of paganism. Intellectually, Julian 



JULIAN THE APOSTATE. 335 

was a remarkable man both in native vigor of mind and in 
rich mental culture. Those portions of his works which have 
descended to us prove that he possessed talent, wit, and rhe- 
torical ease and fluency. It seems as though God allowed such 
men to assail Christianity, that it might be seen that the 
religion of Jesus could triumph over the highest intelligence 
combined with unlimited despotic power. 

It is recorded that Julian possessed among other mental 
marvels such flexibility of thought and abstract power of at- 
tention, that he could employ his hantl to write, his ear to listen, 
and his voice to dictate, at one and the same time. During the 
long winter evenings, he devoted himself with tireless malignity 
to writing a book against Christianity. This treatise left but 
little which modern unbelief could add. 

To prove that paganism could make as good men as Chris- 
tianity could make, Julian adopted the most austere morals, 
rigidly abstaining from those vices which characterized the 
times. He despised the pomp of royalty, discarded all luxu- 
ries, slept on the ground, and partook only of the most fru- 
gal fare. . Indeed, he went so far in the spirit of eccentricity, 
fanaticism, and superstition, as to renounce the decencies of 
dress and the laws of cleanliness. He deemed it an act of 
piety to be filthy in person, and to allow vermin to devour 
him. In one of his letters, boasting of his superior piety, he 
descants with pride upon the length of his finger-nails, the 
dirtiness of his unwashed hands, and the shagginess and 
populousness of his beard. 

Julian repaired and garnished the idol temples, and rein- 
stated pagan worship in the palace with all conceivable splen- 
dor. Every effort was made to render idolatry fashionable 
and popular by gorgeous parades and court patronage. The 
emperor himself often officiated as a priest at these polluted 
shrines. The churches were robbed of their property. Chris- 
tians were ejected from all lucrative and honorable ofSces, 
and their places supplied by pagans. The Christian schools 
were broken up, and the children of Christians denied all 
education save in the schools of the idolaters. 






§36 msfonr op cunisTiAmTt. 

Jesus had predicted that the temple at Jerusalem should he 
destroyed, and should never again he rehuilt. Julian resolved 
to rehuild the temple, and thus prove Christ to he a false 
prophet. He endeavored to arouse the enthusiasm of the 
Jews in the undertaking, and called upon the pagan and 
Christian world to witness the accomplishment of the enterprise. 
Under these circumstances, he put forth all the energies which 
imperial power placed in his hands, and utterly, utterly failed. 

The fact stands forth as one of the most remarkahle in his- 
tory, avowed by Christians, and admitted by pagans, that the 
Roman emperor Julian could not rebuild the temple at Jeru- 
salem. It is stated by authority which no one has been able 
to controvert, that the workmen were terrified and driven away 
by phenomena which they certainly regarded as supernatural. 
Even infidelity cannot subvert the testimony which sustains 
this narrative. The fact is recorded by Ambrose, Bishop of 
Milan, by the eloquent Chrysostom of Antioch, by the re- 
nowned Gregory Nazianzen, and by the Roman historian 
Ammianus Marcellinus, who declares that no one disputed 
the fact. He writes, — 

" While Alphius, assisted by the governor of the province, 
urged with vigor and diligence the execution of the work, 
horrible balls of fire breaking out near the foundations, with 
frequent and reiterated attacks, rendered the place from time 
to time inaccessible to the scorched and blasted workmen ; 
and the victorious element continuing in this manner, abso- 
lutely and resolutely bent, as it were, to drive them to a dis- 
tance, the work was abandoned." 

The statement is confirmed by many witnesses without con- 
tradiction. The fiercest storms beat upon the workmen. Bolts 
of lightning descended, destroying the works. Earthquakes 
shook the foundations, and volcanic flames burst up through 
the yawning crevices. The enterprise thus commenced in an 
impious spirit Julian was compelled to abandon. A well- 
read scholar, he knew that open persecution, imprisonment, 
torture, and death had utterly failed in arresting the progress 
of Christianity. He resolved to try the influence of insult 



JULIAX THE APOSTATE. 33? 

and contempt. He hoped, by dooming the disciples of Jesus 
to ignorance 'and poverty, to paralyze their energies. 

The rich and powerful pagans, as well as the low and vulgar, 
thus encouraged by the example of the king and the court, 
began to assail the Christians with new malignity. The dis- 
ciples were everywhere insulted, persecuted, mobbed. To call 
one a Christian became the severest term of reproach. 

Then, as now, there were vast multitudes who had no inde- 
pendent fairli of their own. These unthinking ones drifted 
along with the popular current. Julian condescended him- 
self to write lampoons against Christianity. In one of these, 
ridiculing the Christian doctrine, that any man who repents 
of sin and trusts in the Saviour may be forgiven, he repre- 
sents, in a satire entitled " The Caesars," his Christian uncle, 
the Emperor Constantine, going on a mission to the shades 
of the infernals. There the emperor gathers around him all 
the foul fiends of the pit, and, addressing them, says, — 

" Whoever is a profligate, a murderer, a guilty man of any 
kind, let him come boldly to me : I will wash him in the 
water of baptism, and make him instantly pure. And should 
you fall into the same crime again, and only beat your breast, 
and say, ' I am sorry,' you shall again be perfectly hoty." 

It would be difficult anywhere to find a more interesting 
illustration of the fact, that there is often but a hair's breadth 
between the most debasing error and the most ennobling truth. 
The Christian doctrine of forgiveness through repentance, and 
trust in the atonement, which- our Saviour lias made, very nearly 
resembles this burlesque of the doctrine as uttered by Julian; 
and yet one is true, and the other false. Salvation through 
faith in the sufferings and death of Jedits is' -described by the 
pen of inspiration as "the mighty power of God ;; for the 
redemption of a lost world. What is. the Christian doctrine 
of forgiveness through faith in Jesus ? It is this : — 

Jesus Christ, the Son of God, has made atonement for all sin 
upon the cross of Calvary. Whoever now will abandon sin, 
trust in this Saviour, and earnestly and prayerfully commence 
the Christlike life, persevering to the end, shall be forgiven, 
22 



33S HISTORY OF CniZISTIANlTT. 

Now, how small is the verbal difference between this Chris- 
tian doctrine of salvation through faith in an atoning Saviour 
and Julian's gross perversion of that only truth by which a 
sinner may be saved ! 

Some may wonder how it was possible for such a man as 
Julian, highly educated, and endowed by nature with great 
intellectual abilities, to advocate idol worship. The following 
extracts from a treatise of instructions which he drew up for 
the use of the pagan priests will show with how much plau- 
sibility such a man could argue in support of a bad cause : — 

" Let no one accuse us," he says, " of holding the gods to 
be wood, stone, brass. When we look at the images of the 
gods, we ought not to see in them stone and wood, neither 
ought we to see the gods themselves. 

" Whoever loves the emperor is pleased with beholding his 
image ; whoever loves his child delights in the picture of 
his child. So whoever loves the gods looks with pleasure on 
their images, penetrated with awe towards those invisible beings 
who look down upon him." 

This was the subtle philosophy of paganism. It was a 
philosophy which the unlettered populace did not attempt to 
comprehend. The masses of the people saw in their gods but 
wood, stone, and brass. In the worship of these idols, they 
had a religion which exerted no beneficial influence upon the 
morals or the heart. And here reflect for a moment upon a 
fact which no intelligent man will call in question. 

In the whole history of the world, not an individual can be 
found who ever renounced infidelity, and sincerely embraced 
Christianity, who has not been made a better man by the 
change ; and, on the other hand, not a single instance can 
be found of one who has renounced Christianity, and embraced 
infidelity, who has not been made a worse man by the change. 

The Bishop of Alexandria, Athanasius, was one of the most 
illustrious men of his age. He was profoundly learned, a 
zealous Christian, an eloquent preacher, and one whose unblem- 
ished virtues commanded the respect of all. His success as a 
preacher exasperated Julian to the highest degree. Moreover, 



JULlAti TtlE APOSTATE. 330 

lie was so "beloved in Alexandria by his flock, and by the wliolo 
community, tbat it was not easy to strike him with the weapons 
of persecution. Even the governor of Alexandria hesitated to 
obey the decree of the infuriated emperor, and to drive Atha- 
nasius from a people by whom he was so highly respected and 
ardently beloved. At length, the emperor, receiving the tidings 
of some new conversions to Christianity through the eloquenco 
of Athanasius, in his wrath wrote to the governor as fol- 
lows : — 

"I swear by the great Serapis, that, unless Athanasius is 
driven from Alexandria before December, you shall be severely 
punished. You know my temper. The contempt which is 
shown for the gods in Alexandria fills me with indignation. 
There is nothing I desire more than the banishment of Atha- 
nasius. The abominable wretch ! Through his preaching 
several Grecian ladies of high rank have become Christians, 
and have been baptized." 

Athanasius was banished. After the death of Julian, he 
returned. This good old man, having attained the age of 
eighty years, died in the year 393. His life was one of the 
most eventful in the history of the Church. Nobly he fought 
the battle, and passed from the stern conflict to the victor's 
crown. 

" Athanasius is one of the greatest men of whom the Church 
can boast. His deep mind, his noble heart, his invincible 
courage, his living faith, his unbounded benevolence, sincere 
humility, lofty eloquence, and strictly virtuous life, gained the 
honor and love of all." l 

Julian had been thoroughly instructed in Christianity. He 
had been nominally a Christian. He had deliberately aposta- 
tized from the faith, with the determination to reinstate pagan- 
ism. He consecrated all the resources of his brilliant mind to 
invest paganism with some of the intellectual grace and dig- 
nity of Christianity. To rescue paganism from the contempt 
into which it had fallen, he endeavored to introduce into 
;he idol worship some of the moral elements which he had 

1 Encyclopaedia Americana. 



340 HlStORY OP CHRIStlANtTt. 

purloined from the teachings of Jesus. In one of the attacks 
of this envenomed foe upon Christianity, he unwittingly 
uttered the nohlest eulogy upon the early Christians. 

"As children," he wrote, "are coaxed with cake, so have' 
these Christians enticed the poor to join them by kindness. 
Strangers they have secured by hospitality. By affecting 
brotherly love, great moral purity, and honoring their dead, 
they have won the multitude." 

This is a beautiful tribute to the character of the early dis- 
ciples of our Saviour from the pen of a foe. Julian gave the 
idolatrous priests the excellent advice, to endeavor to win the 
people back to the pagan shrines by the same measures. He 
distributed large sums of money among the priests to aid them 
in their work. In hi3 earnest appeal to them, he says that the 
pagan poor obtained no assistance from their own people ; while 
the Christians support all of their own poor, and assist also 
many of those who worship the gods. 

The idols were reinstated, with great ceremonial pomp, in 
temples from which they had disappeared. The unstable popu- 
lace, ever swinging to and fro, and naturally inclined to a 
religion which demanded no holiness either of heart or life, 
drifted over in large numbers to the pagan party. In one 
of Julian's appeals in behalf of the gods, he wrote, — 

" I am a worshipper of the God of Abraham, who is a great 
and mighty God. You Christians do not follow Abraham : 
you erect no altars to his God, neither do you worship him a3 
Abraham did with sacrifices.' 7 

Julian was perfectly willing to place the statue of Jehovah, 
a3 one of the gods, by the side of Jupiter and Bacchus and 
Diana and Venus. In his zeal against Christianity, he endeav- 
ored to revive ancient Judaism. He had invited the Jews to 
co-operate with him in his unavailing attempt to rebuild the 
temple at Jerusalem. He even stooped to ignoble trickery, 
that he might put a moral compulsion upon the Christians to 
do homage to the idols. 

The emperor's statue stood in all public places. It was cus- 
tomary for every one, in passing,- to bow to it as to the emperor. 



JULIAN THE APOSTATE. 341 

Julian placed by the side of his statue, in closest proximity, 
several statues -of the gods. Thus no one could respectfully 
bow the head to the image of the emperor without apparently 
doing homage to the idols. Not to bow to the statue of the 
emperor was a penal oifence. Thus, and in many other ways 
too numerous to mention, Julian the apostate endeavored to 
reinstate paganism. 

But all the artifice and imperial power of Julian could not 
restore a religion which had no elevated doctrines of theology, 
no ennobling principles of morality, which presented no lofty 
motives of action, and which unfolded no realms of a glorious 
immortality beyond the grave. 

It is a necessity of man's nature that Christianity should 
finally triumph ; for the religion of Jesus alone meets and sat- 
isfies the deepest yearnings of the human soul : it inspires 
to purity of life and to noble deeds as nothing else conceivable 
can inspire ; it irradiates the realms bej T ond the grave with 
light and love and eternal joy ; it is indeed good news, — glad 
tidings to all people. 

Many attempts have been made to build up Christian vir- 
tues without Christian principles. All such efforts have failed. 
Hainan passion is so strong in its bias to sin, that it can be 
restrained hy no power less potent than the gospel of Jesus 
Christ. The doctrine of the cross, though to the Jew a stum- 
bling-bloc 1 .: and to the Greek foolishness, is, to them that are 
saved, the wisdom of God and the power of Got 1 . 

Every year, Julian grew more inveterate and malignant in 
his hostility to Christianity. The city of Antioch, in Syria, 
was the capital of Asia Minor. Paul had long and success- 
fully preached the gospel in that city ; and, under the Emperor 
Constantine, every vestige of paganism had disappeared - "rom 
its temples and its streets. Julian made strenuous efforts to 
re-establish pagan rites in Antioch. He reared an idol temple 
in the vicinity of a Christian burying-ground, and then ordered 
the bodies of the Christians to be removed from their graves, 
as polluting the soil which the idol temple rendered sacred to 
the pagan gods. 



342 HISTORY OF CnRISTIANITY. 

The Christians met to transfer, in solemn procession, the 
remains of their honored dead to another burial-place. With 
united voice they chanted the ninety-seventh Psalm, which 
calls upon the heathen deities to prostrate themselves before the 
majesty of Jehovah : — 

" The Lord rcigneth : let the earth rejoice ; 
Let the multitude of the isles be glad thereof. 
Confounded bo all they that serve graven images, 
That boast themselves of idols. 
"Worship him, all ye gods." 
i 

Julian, in his exasperation, caused the arrest of several of 
the most prominent of these Christians, and sentenced them to 
the severest punishments. One young man, Theodosius, was 
subjected to the utmost extremity of torture. He bore the 
agony with such fortitude as to excite the admiration of the 
pagans. 

While Julian was thus breathing threatenings and slaughter 
against the Church, lie was summoned to the frontiers of 
Persia, where a terrible invasion was menacing the empire. 
Persia had gradually risen into a military power which threat- 
ened to assume independence. 

The country between the Euphrates and the Tigris, called 
Mesopotamia, or between the rivers, consisted of a region 
about five hundred miles long and fifty wide. It was an 
exceedingly fertile plain. The inhabitants called themselves 
Assyrians. Being wealthy and numerous, and far distant from 
the central power of Home, they had not only raised the ban- 
ner of revolt against the empire, but had sent large armies 
across the Euphrates, which ravaged the adjacent provinces, 
and returned enriched with plunder and slaves. 

To bring these Assyrians again into subjection to the Roman 
power, Julian commenced a campaign against them. He took 
with him sixty-five thousand veteran Roman soldiers and a 
vast body of Scythian auxiliaries and roving Arabs. Eleven 
hundred barges crowded the Euphrates, to float down the 
stream the emperor's ponderous engines of war and his military 
supplies, 



JULIAN TUE APOSTATE. 343 

These boats, flat-bottomed, were easily converted into pon- 
toon-bridges. As this immense army crossed the Euphrates, 
and entered Assyria, Julian gathered the whole body around 
him, and, with the most imposing rites of pagan religion, offered 
sacrifices to the pagan gods, appealing to them for aid in his 
enterprise. The appeal, for a time, seemed not to be in vain. 
Signal success accompanied his arms. City after city fell 
before the terrible power of the Eoman legions. The trail of 
the victorious army was marked by smouldering ruins and 
blood. 

Maogamalcha was one of the most important cities of this 
Assyrian realm. The wolfish Roman legions burst through 
the gates. Every conceivable outrage was inflicted upon the 
wretched inhabitants, and then they were consigned to indis- 
criminate massacre. The governor of the city was burned alive. 
There were in the suburbs three palaces, enriched with every 
thing which could minister to the pride of an Eastern monarch. 
Palaces, gardens, parks, statuary, paintings, — all were reduced 
to utter ruin. 

The devastation of a palace creates much emotion; but it 
is the burning of the cottage, of which history takes such little 
notice, which Alls the world with weeping and woe. Julian 
became such a terror to this whole region, that the painters of 
the nation represented him as a lion vomiting fire. And yet 
this same man seemed to have his appetites and passions nnder 
perfect control : he was quite free from many of those vices 
which degrade humanity ; he shared all the hardships of the 
soldiers, often traversing with them, on foot, the burning 
plains. 

But ere long the heathen gods, whose aid he had im- 
plored, and upon whom he had relied, seemed to abandon 
him. He was led to adopt the most insane measures, which 
could only result in his ruin. Troubles gathered thickly 
around him. He became so harassed with anxiety, that ho 
could not sleep. One night, in troubled dreams, or in a revery, 
an angel appeared before him weeping, and covered with a 
funereal veil, 



344 history of Christianity. 

The superstitious monarch, affrighted, rushed from his tent. 
It was midnight. The camp was silent. The stars of Meso- 
potamia shone down sadly upon the apostate. Suddenly a 
brilliant meteor shot athwart the sky. To the superstitious 
pagan it was a menace from the god of war, indicating 
defeat. 

At break of day the trumpets suddenly sounded, summoning 
the soldiers to repel an attack from the foe springing by sur- 
prise upon them. It was a sultry summer's morning i not a 
breath of air mitigated the overpowering heat. Julian, as he 
rushed to the field, laid aside his cuirass. A cloud of arrows 
and javelins fell upon him. A barbed javelin, lined with sharp 
in'.aid blades of steel, grazed his arm, pierced his ribs, and, 
with its keen point, penetrated deeply the liver of the monarch. 
Frantic with pain, Julian seized the weapon, and endeavored to 
wrench it out. In the attempt, his hands were severely lacer- 
ated by the blades. Bleeding, fainting, ho fell senseless to the 
ground. 

His guards bore his inanimate body from the tumult of the 
battle to a neighboring tent. It was some time before he 
awoke to consciousness. The blood was gushing from the 
wound. It was evident to Julian, and to alL others, that he 
must soon die. Grasping a handful of the crimson gore, he 
flung it madly toward the heavens, as if conscious that Jesus 
was reigning there, and exclaimed, "0 Galilean! thou hast 
conquered." 

The current of life was now fast ebbing, and death was 
manifestly near at hand. The wretched Julian made a faint 
attempt to rally to his support his pagan philosophy. 

"I have lived," he said, " without any sin. 1 am not afraid 
to die. My soul is now to be absorbed into the ethereal sul- 
stance of the universe." 

Thus he died. At midnight, the spirit of Julian the apos- 
tate ascended to the judgment-seat of Christ. This sad record 
suggests a few obvious thoughts, to which we cannot refrain 
from directing the attention of our readers: — 

1. The experience of eighteen centuries seems to prove tl*at 



JULIAN TUE APOSTATE. 345 

the final triumph of Christianity is certain. Every weapon 
raised against Christianity lias failed. Argument has exhausted 
its most profound efforts. Persecution has in vain expended all 
its energies of torture, dungeons, flames, and death. Though 
there are men now who hate the religion of Jesus, who oppose 
it in every possible way, — some by direct hostility, and some by 
neglect, — still Christianity was never before so potent as now. 
Never before has it exerted so controlling an influence over the 
hearts and lives of men. Its power has steadily increased with 
the lapsing centuries. 

2. It is obvious that the triumph of Christianity will not be 
a triumph in which all the enemies of Christianity will become 
its friends : its persistent enemies will perish. Satan may 
never be converted ; but he will be held in chains. Julian 
died hurling defiance at Jesus Christ : he may forever re- 
main thus obdurate ; but he will never again have it in his 
power to persecute the Christians. Julian is immortal : he is 
as free now to love or hate as he was fourteen centuries ago. 
God never robs his intelligent creatures of the freedom of the 
will. But those who remain unrelenting can never be per- 
mitted to mar, by their malice, the joys of heaven. 

3. There are in this world, probably in the wide universe of 
God, but two parties, — those who are the friends of Christ, 
and those who are not his friends. To this solemn truth wo 
must ever come. " He that is not with me is against me," l 
says Christ. One's love for Christ may not be fully developed ; 
one ? s rejection of Christ may exist in a latent state : but the 
germs of love or rejection are in every soul ; every one is in 
heart either with Constantine or Julian. 

4. Death is to all alike the same sublime event. There is 
something awful in the death of Julian. The tumult and the 
uproar of the battle rage around him ; the blood gushes from 
his lacerated veins. But death itself is an event so sublime, that 
ail its surroundings are of but little moment. It is the one 
thing, the one only thing, of which every person is sure. No 
matter when, where, or how, death comes : to leave this worlcj 

x Matt. xii. 30, 



346 



HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 



forever; to go to the judgment-seat of Christ; to hear the sen- 
tence, "Welcome, ye blessed!" or "Depart, ye cursed!' 5 and 
then to enter upon eternity, a happy spirit in heaven, or a lost 
spirit in hell, — this is an event so transcen d en tly sublime, 
that its accidental accompaniments are scarcely worthy of a 
thought. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



THE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIAN". 



A.necdotc. —Accession of Jovian. — ITis Character. — Christianity reinstated.— 
Death of Jovian. — Recall of Athanasius. — Wide Condemnation of Arianism.— 
Heroism of Jovian. — Valentinian and Valens. — Valentinian enthroned.— 
"Valens in the East. — Barbarian Irruptions. — Reign of Theodosius.— Aspect 
of the Barbarians. —Rome captured by Aiaric. — Character of Aiaric. — Hi3 
Death and Burial. —Remarkable Statement of Adolphus. — Attila the Hun. — 
Valentinian III. — Acadius. — Eloquence of Chrysos torn. — His Banishment 
and Death. — Rise of Monasticism. 



N reference to the death of Julian, an anecdote is 
related which has been deemed sufficiently authen- 
tic to he quoted in most ecclesiastical histories. 
At the very hour when Julian w r as dying in 
Mesopotamia, a pagan scorncr, a thousand miles 
<?fW. ^\ distant, in Antioch, hanteringly inquired of a 
\ ^^^ Christian, alluding to Jesus Christ, "What do 
you think the carpenter's son is doing now ? " 

The Christian, as if prophetically witnessing tne dying 
scene upon the Tigris, solemnly replied, "Jesus the bon of 
God, whom you scoffingly call the carpenter's son, is just ntv 
making a coffin ." 

After a few days, the tidings of Julian's death reached Anti- 
och. The coincidence produced a powerful impression, and 
was regarded as a supernatural revelation. The death of 
Julian filled the hearts of pagans with dismay, and elated the 
Christians with gratitude and hope. The remains of Julian 
were hastily embalmed^ to he transported to the shores of the 

3*7 




348 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Mediterranean; and liis army, having been utterly rov.tel, 
commenced a precipitate retreat. Famine devoured- then; 
pestilence consumed tliem ; the arrows and javelins of th^ii 
triumphant, pursuing assailants strewed with gory corpses the 
path along which they fled. In the midst of this din of arms 
and these scenes of dismay, a few voices nominated Jovian, an 
officer of the imperial guard, as emperor. 

Jovian was not merely nominally a Christian, but piobably 
in heart a true disciple of Jesus Christ. He was a man alike 
majestic in character and stature. When tbac nominated to 
assume the supreme command, he said sadly, — 

"I cannot command idolaters. I am p, Christian. The dis- 
pleasure of God is even now falling upon U3 PtS an army ^f his 
enemies." 

When troubles come, nearly all men ar? disposed to look to 
God for aid. The whole army was at that time m immi- 
nent peril of annihilation from famine, pestilence, and the 
sword. The officers in a body gathered around Jovian, and 
earnestly entreated him to accept the crown. 

"We will all," they said,' " be Christians. The reign of 
idolatry has been too short to efface the teachings of the good 
Ccnstantine. Lead us, and we will return to the worship of the 
true God." 

This noble young man was but thirty-two years of age. Ho 
had already given proof of remarkable courage, not only upon 
the field of battle, but in braving the wrath of Julian by refus- 
ing to bow down to ululs. Jovian, having accepted the peril- 
ous office of emperor, soon succeeded in entering into a treaty 
of peace with the Persians, and in thus extricating the aimy 
from otherwise inevitable ruin. 

It is refreshing to a spirit weary -of the corruptions of man- 
kind to contemplate the sincerity and honesty with which thi.3 
extraordinary man conducted the most important affairs. For 
seven months the army was on its march, of fifteen hundred 
miles, from the Euphrates to Antioch. Jovian maintained the 
principles of true toleration : all men were allowed to worship 
as they pleased. The disastrous career of Julian had le4 to 



THE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIA2?. S4§ 

a general distrust of the heathen gods ; and the moral influence 
of a Christian emperor, operating in a thousand ways, in- 
creased the disposition of the soldiers to abandon the idols, and 
to return to Christianit} r . Paganism had met with but a tran- 
sient revival. Now, like a hideous dream of the night, it was 
passing away, to he revived no more forever. The sign of tho 
cross, which Julian had effaced, was replaced upon the Roman 
banners. 

The Arian controversy continued to agitate the Church. 
Arius had declared the Son to be, not the equal of the Father, 
but the first-born and highest in rank of all created beings. 
The Council of Nice, with almost perfect unanimity, had 
declared the doctrine of Arius to be new, unscriptural, and a 
dangerous heresy. Jovian adhered to the ancient faith as pro- 
nounced by the Council of Nice. He recalled the bishops who 
had been banished by Julian, and restored the church property 
which had been confiscated. 

It will be remembered that Athanasius, the renowned Bishop 
of Alexandria, had been driven into exile by Julian, because, 
through his preaching, some Grecian ladies of n^ble birth 
had been converted and baptized. Jovian recalled the taithful 
Christian pastor by the following letter, which he published to 
the world : — 

"To the most religious friend of <Grod, Athanasius. As wo 
admire beyond expression the sanctity of your life, in which 
shine forth marks of resemblance to the God of the universe, 
and 3*0111* zeal for Jesus Christ our Saviour, we take you, ven- 
erable bishop, under our protection. You deserve it by tho 
courage you have shown in the most painful labors and cnvsl 
persecutions. Return to the churches ; feed the people of Go^i ; 
offer prayers for us ; for we are persuaded that God will bestow 
upon us, and upon our fellow-Christians, his signal favors, if 
you afford us the assistance of your prayers." 
. The city of Alexandria, in Egypt, had been one of the 
strongholds of paganism. The pagan priests had represented 
to Julian that the presence of Athanasius in Alexandria 
rendered all their magic arts unavailing • that his preaching 



SoO HISTORt OF CHRISTIANITY. 

was causing the temples of the gods to be abandoned in the city 
and throughout all Egypt; and that, unless he were silenced, 
there would soon be left no worshippers of the gods. Atha- 
nasius, upon his restoration to his church in Alexandria, wrote 
a letter of thanks to Jovian, in which he saj^s, — 

" Be it known to you, emperor, beloved of God, that the doc- 
trine established by the Council of Nice is preached in all the 
churches, — in those of Spain, of Britain, of Gaul; in all 
those of Italy, of Campania, of Dalmatia, of Mysia, of Mace- 
donia, and of all Greece ; in all those of Africa, of Sardinia, 
of Cyprus, of Crete, of Pamphylia, of Lycia, of Isauria; in 
all those of Egypt, of Libya, of Pontus, of Cappadocia, and of 
the neighboring countries; and those of the East, excepting 
a few there who follow the opinions of Arius. We know the 
faith of the churches by the effects produced; and we have 
received letters from them. The small number of those who 
are hostile to this faith is scarcely worthy of consideration in 
opposition to the sentiment of the entire Christian world." l 

This is very striking testimony to the almost universal assent 
of the Church in that day to the equality of the Son with the 
Father. " The Council of Nice," writes Athanasius, " has not 
said merely that the Son is like the Father, or like God, but 
that he is God, and the trite God. It says that he is consub- 
stantial with the Father. And the bishops have not separated 
the Holy Spirit as a stranger from the Father and the Son ; but 
they have glorified him with the Father and the Son, because 
the Holy Trinity has but one and the same divinity." 2 

Gregory, Bishop of Nazianzen, wrote a very interesting cir- 
cular letter to all Christians, giving them truly Christian coun- 
sel as to the course they should pursue in the new and almost 
miraculous change in their affairs. 

"Let us show our gratitude to God," he writes, "by purity 
of soul, by inward peace, by holy thoughts, and a spiritual life. 
Let us not avenge ourselves upon the pagans, but win them by 
our gentleness and love. Let him who has suffered most from 

1 Histoire du Christianisme, par 1'AbbS Fleury, livre quinzidme, s. llii. 
• Theod. iv. e, 2, 3. 



THE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIAN. Sol 

the pagans refer them to the judgment of God. Let us not 
think of confiscating their goods, of dragging them before the 
tribunals, or of inflicting upon them any of the woes which 
they have inflicted upon us. Let us render them more humane, 
if it be possible, by our example." 1 

The army had passed by Tarsus, the birthplace of Paul, where 
the remains of Julian were consigned to the tomb, and had 
reached the village of Dadastane, on the confines of Galatia 
and Bithynia, when Jovian died, in the night of the 17th of 
February, 364, within about three hundred miles of Constanti- 
nople. He was found one morning dead in his bed ; having 
been accidentally stifled, it is supposed, by the fumes of char- 
coal in his apartment. His broken-hearted wife, who was 
hastening to greet her husband, met his remains on the road. 
With the anguish and tears of widowhood, bitter then as now, 
she accompanied them to the tomb in Constantinople. He 
was but thirty-three years of age, and had reigned but eight 
months. The main body of the army, being a little in advance, 
had then reached Nice, the capital of Bithynia.. As soon as 
the soldiers heard of the death of Jovian, they unanimously 
elected Valentinian, who was captain of the imperial guard, his 
successor. Valentinian was also a Christian. The following 
anecdote illustrates the nobility of his character: — 

It- was the custom of Julian on special occasions to distrib- 
ute gifts to those who had merited them. The apostate em- 
peror, who would stoop to every kind of trickery to lure the 
soldiers, even unconsciously, to pay homage to the idol gods, 
on one of these occasions, when about to bestow rewards, had 
an altar erected before him, upon which were placed glowing 
coals. By the side of the altar stood a table covered with 
frankincense. 

As a part of the ceremony, each one who was to receive an 
imperial gift was to sprinkle a little of the incense upon the 
coals, from which a fragrant cloud would gracefully arise. It 
was a stratagem to lead the Christians to offer incense to the 
gods, without being conscious that they were doing so. Julian 

1 Histoire dn Christianisme, par l'Abt>6 Fleury, t. i. p. 639. 



mSTOIit OF CiriilSTtANXTt 



thus endeavored to entrap three of his leading Christian gen- 
erals, — Jovian (who became his successor), Valentinian, and 
Valens. 

After burning the frankincense, and receiving the imperial 
gift, Valentinian returned to his tent. As he sat down to partake 
of some refreshments, he, according to his custom, asked a 
blessing in the name of Jesus Christ. A pagan companion, 
observing this, exclaimed, with real or affected astonishment, — 

" How is this? Do you invoke the name of Christ after 
having publicly renounced him ? " 

"'What do you mean?" inquired Valentinian, alarmed and 
surprised. 

" I mean,' 7 was the reply, " that you have just offered incense 
to the gods upon one of their altars." 

Valentinian immediately rose, and, hastening to the presence 
of the emperor, laid down at his feet the precious gifts he had 
received, saying, — 

" Sire, I am a Christian. I wish all the world to know it. 
I have not intentionally renounced my Saviour, Jesus Cbrist. 
If my hand has erred, my heart has not followed it : the em- 
peror has deceived me. I renounce the act of impiety, and am 
ready to make expiation with my blood." 

Jovian, and Valentinian's brother Valens, did the same with 
their gifts. The emperor was exasperated. In the first im- 
pulse of his rage, he ordered them to be led immediately to exe- 
cution. As the executioner stood ready with his hcav}*- sword 
to sever their heads from their bodies, and the victims were 
upon their knees to receive the death-blow, a herald hastily 
approached, and arrested the execution. The emperor, upon 
reflection, deemed it not wise for such an offence to consign 
to death three of the best and most influential officers in his 
armj r . 

Another characteristic anecdote is related of Valentinian, 
worthy of record. He was commander of the imperial guard. 
As such, it was necessary for him, upon all important occasions, 
to be at the side of the emperor. At one time, when Julian, in 
performance of some rites of the pagan religion, was enter- 



TlIE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIA2T. 353 

ing the Temple of the Goddess of Fortune, dancing in religious 
homage, two priests stood, one on each side of the vestibule, to 
sprinkle the emperor with holy-water. This, was a pagan rite 
which the Papal Church has transferred from the temples of 
idolatry to the sanctuaries of Christ. 

A drop of this water fell upon the dress of Valentinian. 
Turning to one of the priests, he said, u You have sullied my 
garments." Immediately he tore from his robe the portion 
upon which the water consecrated to idols had fallen. 

The emperor was so irritated, that for a time he banished 
him from his command. It is said that Julian would not put 
him to death, because, with strange inconsistency, he was un* 
willing that he should wear the crown of martyrdom. Such 
was the character of the Christian Valentinian, upon whoso 
shoulders the robes of imperial purple were now placed. 

Valentinian seems to Iilvc proved himself, in all respects, 
worthy of his high position. He was majestic in stature, com- 
manding in intellect, and of irreproachable purity of morals. 
He was crowned b} r the army at Nice, in Bithynia ; his brother 
Valens receiving from him the appointment of assistant em- 
peror. The Eastern empire, from the Danube to the confines 
of Persia, was assigned to Valens, with Constantinople for his 
capital. Valentinian took charge of the Western empire, select- 
ing the city of Milan for his metropolis. 

Still the barbarian hordes from all directions were crowding 
upon the crumbling Roman empire. While Valentinian was 
struggling against their locust legious in the West, Valens 
was making an equally desperate and equally unavailing 
struggle against them in the East. The Huns came howling 
on from the wilds of Tartary, fierce as the wolves, and in 
numbers which no man could count. They could not be re- 
sisted. In an impetuous flood they surged along, till all the 
plains of Greece were swept by the inundation. Even the 
Goths fled in terror before these shaggy and merciless war- 
riors. 

Valens entered into an alliance with the Goths, hoping by 
their aid to resist the still more dreaded Huns. He allowed 
23 



354 BISTORT OP CBRIST1AKXTZ 

his barbarian allies to take possession of all the waste lands 
of Thrace. Availing themselves of this advantageous base 
of operations, the treacherous Goths ravaged the whole coun- 
try to the shores of the Adriatic, menacing even Italy with 
their arms. They laid siege to both the cities of Adrianople 
and Constantinople. Terror reigned everywhere. Tears and 
blood, through man's demoniac ferocity, deluged this whole 
world. In an awful battle before the walls of Adrianople, the 
army of Valens was cut to pieces. Valens himself perished 
upon the bloody field. How little can we imagine, seated by 
our peaceful firesides, the dimensions of that wail of misery 
ascending from a whole army perishing beneath the sabres 
and the battle-axes of merciless barbarians ! This is indeed 
a lost world. Surely history proves that man is a depraved 
animal. How happy might this world have been had man 
been the friend, instead of the foe, of his broth er-man ! 

Eor twelve years Valentinian was engaged in almost an in- 
cessant battle. The Picts and Scots were rushing down upon 
Britain from the mountains of Caledonia. All along the 
Rhine and the Danube, tribes of uncouth names and habits 
were desolating, in plundering bands, every unprotected region. 
Worn down with care, toil, and sorrow, Valentinian fell a 
victim to a sudden attack of apoplexy in the year 375, in the 
fifty-fourth year of his age. 

Valentinian had a son, Gratian, who, at the time of his 
father's death, was but seventeen years old. He succeeded his 
father on the throne of the Western empire, without inheriting 
either his virtues or his energy. Retiring to Paris, the boy- 
emperor surrendered himself to voluptuous indulgence. Dis- 
content created an insurrection, which was led by Maxim ns, 
Governor of Britain. Gratian, abandoned by his troops, fled 
to Lyons, where he was overtaken and slain. 

A Christian general by the name of Theodosius had suc- 
ceeded Valens in the East. Difficulties had arisen between 
Theodosius and Maximus. War ensued. Maxim us was slain. 
Valentinian, a mere boy, younger brother of Gratian, was 
placed upon the throne of the Western empire. The poor child 



THE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIAN. 355 

was almost immediately assassinated. Theodosius marched 
to the West to avenge his death, and assumed the government 
of the whole united empire of the East and of the West. But 
be was a sick man, and the hand of death was already upon 
1 Jm : in less than four months he breathed his last at Milan. 

Theodosius was a zealous Christian: in character he was 
one of the purest of men, and was earnestly devoted to the wel- 
fare of his realms ; but his reign was sullied by intolerance, — 
doubtless conscientious, but none the less bigoted. He issued 
severe edicts against those Christians who swerved from the 
established faith as enunciated by the Council of Nice. He 
unrelentingly demolished or closed all the temples of paganism. 
He instituted that office of inquisitors of the faith, which, 
revived in subsequent centuries, became the fruitful source of 
so much crime and woe. 

It was indeed a dark da} r , in the year of our Lord 379, 
when Theodosius ascended the throne. There was no stable 
government anywhere, no protection from violence. The 
Iioman power, which, oppressive as it had been, was far better 
than anarchy, was now but a crumbling ruin, which no human 
energy or skill could rebuild. 

As we look back through the gloomy centuries upon these 
dim, tumultuous scenes, a new vision of appalling grandeur 
rises before the eye. Alaric — the world-renowned Alaric the 
Goth — appears in the arena at the head of his fierce legions. 
Like gaunt and famished beasts of prey, his savage hordes 
swept over Greece, entered Italy, and besieged Milan. These 
barbarians were a short, chunky, broad-shouldered race of 
men, of herculean strength. A contemporary writer thus 
describes their general aspect : — 

" Their high cheek-bones, and small, twinkling eyes, gave 
them a savage and cruel expression, which was increased by 
their want of nose ; for the only visible appearance of that 
organ consisted of two holes sunk in the square expanse of 
their faces." 

Onward, ever onward, rolled this flood of hideous aud pitiless 
foes. While this inundation was sweeping along from the 



356 BISTORT OP CHRISTIANITY. 

East, another similar flood came surging down from tlie North • 
the two torrents, blending, eddied around the walls of Home. 
For six hundred years the city of Rome had not been insulted 
by the presence of a foreign foe. 

Tbeodosius was the child of Christian parents. At the com- 
mencement of his reign, he was but nominally a Christian ; 
that is, he was not a pagan, but had intellectually given his 
assent to the religion of Jesus. He had not, however, at that 
time, publicly united with the Church. The perils which were 
menacing the State, and a severe fit of sickness with which 
he was seized at Thessalonica, seem to have led him to feci 
the necessity of personal religion. The emperor sent for 
Ascnle, the pastor of the church in Thessalonica, and, having 
ascertained that he cordially accepted the doctrines of the 
Council of Nice, received from him the rite of baptism, and 
thus enrolled himself among the disciples of Jesus. Notwith- 
standing the faults of the Christian Emperor Theodosius, — 
faults to be attributed to the times rather than to the individ- 
ual, — history lias pronounced him one of the purest and nobleat 
monarchs who ever occupied a throne. 

Upon the death of Theodosius at Milan, the empire was 
dirided between his two sons: Arcadius was crowned in the 
East, Honorius in the West. The Eastern empire embraced 
Thrace, Greece, Asia Minor, Syria, and Egypt : the Western 
empire inclu led Italy, Africa, Gaul, Spain, Britain, and the 
Danubian provinces. The Western empire was now much the 
weaker. Home had ceased to bo the metropolis, and enjoyed 
only the renown of its former greatness. Milan had become 
the new capital. 

Alaric, with his fierce legions, after a short siege of Milan, 
was driven back. The timid Honorius was so alarmed by the 
invasion, that, with his court, he retired from Milan to Ravenna. 
Alaric, at the head of a hundred thousand men, contemptuous- 
ly passing by Ravenna, commenced the siege of Rome. The 
walls surrounding the city still remained in their massive 
strength. Famine compelled the citizens to purchase a tem- 
porary peace at the price of the pavment of a vast sum of 



THE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIAN. 357 

money, and tlie surrender of many of the leading citizens as 
hostages. 

When the delegation from the Roman senate, with the offer 
to surrender, was introduced to Alaric, the members of the 
delegation ventured to state rather menacingly, that, if Alaric 
refused them honorable terms, lie would rouse against him an 
innumerable people animated by despair. Alaric replied with 
a scornful laugh, — 

'•'The thicker the grass, the easier it is mown." 

He then assigned the only terms upon which he would re- 
tire. He demanded all the gold and silver in the city, whether 
it were the property of the State or of individuals ; then all 
the rich and nrecious movables ; then all the slaves who had 
been captured from the barbarians. 

" If su oh, king ! are your demands," the ministers replied, 
" what do you intend to leave to us ? n 

" Your lives/' the conqueror haughtily replied. Still Alaric 
somewhat abated the rigor of these demands. 

There is but little reliance to be placed in barbarian faith. 
Alaric and his fierce hordes were soon again encamped before 
the walls of the imperial city. There were forty thousand 
slaves (white slaves), the victims of Eoman rapacity, within 
the walls. They conspired with the invaders. At midnight 
there was a servile insurrection : the gates were thrown open, 
and the clangor of rushing barbarians resounded through the 
streets. 

It is not in the power of human imagination to conceive the 
horrors of a city sacked at midnight, — a city of more than a 
irillion of inhabitants, men, women, and children, at the mercy 
of a savage foe. 1 The slaves were glad of a chance to avenge 
the wrongs of ages. They were of the same race with their 
masters. The hour of vengeance had tolled. The Romans 
had thoroughly instructed them and their barbarian confed- 
erates in all the arts of cruelty and lust. God alone can com- 
prehend the scenes which were enacted during that awful night, 

1 Gibbon, after a careful calculation, estimates the number of inhabitants at a 
million two hundred thousand. 



So$ HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The most venerable and costly memorials of the past were 
surrendered to conflagration : large portions of the city were 
consumed. 

For six days the Goths held the metropolis; then, reeling 
in intoxication, encumbered with spoil, and dragging after 
them their captives, — the young men to groom their horses; 
the maidens, daughters of Roinan senators and nobles, to fill 
their harems, — they rioted along the Appian Way, and surged 
over all Southern Italy, giving loose to every depraved desire. 

It is thus that God punishes guilty nations. Though sen- 
tence against an evil work may not be speedily executed, the 
hour of recompense is sure to come. For four years the whole 
of the south of Italy was subject to the barbarians. Roman phi- 
losophers had long argued that it was right for the stronger 
nations to enslave the weaker. The Goths were now the 
stronger, and the Romans the weaker ; and the Romans were 
compelled to drain to the dregs the cup which their own hands 
had mingled. 

Men of senatorial dignity, and matrons of illustrious birth, 
became the menial servants of half-naked savages. These 
burly barbarians stretched their hairy limbs beneath the shade 
of palm-trees ; and young men and maidens born in palaces 
washed their feet, and presented them Falernian wine in golden 
goblets. 

While Alaric was thus ravaging Italy, the Emperor Honorius 
was ignominiously besieged behind the walls of Ravenna. The 
old Roman empire had so far crumbled away, that Italy alone 
remained even nominally subject to the emperor. Even large 
portions of Italy were in the hands of the foe. Persia, Egypt, 
Turkey, Germany, France, Spain, England, all overrun by 
barbarians, became the cradles of those monarchies which are 
flourishing or decaying in those regions at the present day. 

Alaric the Goth was one of the most remarkable of men. 
His native ferocity was strangely mitigated by profound respect 
for Christianity. Many of the Gothic soldiers had also, at least 
nominally, adopted the Christian faith. When Rome was 
taken by storm, Alaric exhorted his soldiers to respect the 



TEE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIAN. 359 

churches as inviolable sanctuaries. A Goth burst into the 
house of an aged woman who had devoted herself to the ser- 
vice of the Church. Upon his demanding her gold and silver, 
she conducted him to a closet of massive plate. 

"These," said she, "are consecrated vessels belonging to the 
Church of St. Peter. If you touch them, the sacrilegious deed 



will 



remain upon j-onr conscience 



J 9 



The barbarian was overawed, and sent a messenger to inform 
the king of the treasure he had discovered. Alaric sent an 
order that the sacred vessels should be immediately transported, 
under guard, to the church of the apostle. 

" From the extremity, perhaps, of the Quirinal Hill to the 
distant quarters of the Vatican, a numerous detachment of 
Goths, marching in order of battle through the principal streets, 
protected with glittering arms the long train of their devout 
companions, who bore aloft on their heads the sacred vessels 
of gold and silver ; and the martial shouts of the barbarians 
were mingled with the sound of religious psalmody." * 

Augustine, in his celebrated work entitled "The City of 
God," refers with much gratification to this memorable inter- 
position of God in behalf of his Church. Alaric died just as 
he was entering upon an expedition for the conquest of Syria, 
having been in possession of Itaty for four years. 

" The ferocious character of the barbarians," writes Gibbon, 
" was displayed in the funeral of a hero whose valor and for- 
tune they celebrated with mournful applause. By the labor 
of a captive multitude, they forcibly diverted the course of 
the Busentius, a small river that washes the walls of Con- 
sentia. The royal sepulchre, adorned with the splendid spoils 
and trophies of Rome, was constructed in the vacant bed. 
The waters were then returned to their natural channel ; and 
the secret spot where the remains of Alaric had been deposited 
was forever concealed by the inhuman massacre of the prison- 
ers who had been employed to execute the work." 

Adolphus, brother-in-law of Alaric, succeeded, by the vote of 
the Gothic army, to the supreme command. He was also a 

* Gibbon. 



360 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

remarkable man. His intelligence and moral worth may be 
inferred from the following remarks which he made to a citi- 
zen of Karbonne. The conversation was related by this citizen 
to St. Jerome, in the presence of the historian Orosius. 

" In the full confidence of valor and victory," said Adolphus, 
" I once aspired to change the face of the universe ; to oblit- 
erate the name of Home ; to erect on its ruins the dominion 
of the Goths; and to acquire, like Augustus, the immortal 
fame of the founder of a new empire. By repeated experi- 
ments, I was gradually convinced that laws are essentially 
necessary to maintain and regulate a well-constituted State, 
and that the fierce, intractable humor of the Goths was incapa- 
ble of bearing the salutary yoke of laws and civil government. 
From that moment I proposed to myself a different object of 
glory and ambition ; and it is now my sincere wish that the 
gratitude of future ages should acknowledge the merit of a 
stranger who employed the sword of the Goth, not to subvert, 
but to restore and maintain, the prosperity of the Roman 
empire." 

In accordance with these views, Adolphus opened negotia- 
tions with Honorius, the Eoman emperor, who was besieged at 
Ravenna. He entered into an alliance with him to assist in 
driving out the barbarians who were on the other side of the 
Alps. He even sought and obtained in marriage Placidia, a 
Christian lady, the daughter of Theodosius, and sister of Hono- 
rius. This illustrious woman, whose adventurous life we can- 
not here record, had been highly educated at Constantinople. 
The bride was young and lovely: the bridegroom was also 
remarkable for dignity of bearing and manly beauty. Thus 
the daughter of the decaying house of Rome was wedded to 
the chieftain of a new dynasty just emerging into fame and 
power. 

The nuptials were conducted with great splendor ct Nar- 
bonne, in Gaul. Fifty beautiful boys in silken robes pre- 
sented the bride each two vases, — one filled with golden coin, 
and the other with precious gems. Even these treasures formed 
but a very inconsiderable portion of the gifts which were 



THE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIA2T. 361 

lavished upon Placidia. Adolplms, assuming the character of 
a Roman general, marched from Italy into Gaul. Driving out 
the barbarians there, he took possession of the whole country, 
from the ocean to the Mediterranean. Here Adolplms ere 
long died, and Placidia returned to her brother Honorius at 
Ravenna. After an inglorious reign of twenty-eight years, 
the timic and imbecile Honorius died at Ravenna. His secre- 
tary, John, seized the falling sceptre. Another party advocated 
the claims of the son of the emperor's widowed sister Placidia,. 
a child of but six years. John was beheaded. The boy, as 
Valentinian III., was declared emperor. Placidia was appointed 
regent. 

Attila the Hun, whose devastations have procured for him 
the designation of a the Scourge of God," now appears promi- 
nent upon the scene. At the head of half a million of men, he 
swept over Gaul and Italy, creating misery which no tongue 
can adequately tell : it would seem that humanity could 
scarcely have survived such billows of unutterable woe. Ail 
Venetia was ravaged with unsparing slaughter. A portion of 
the wretched inhabitants, flying in terror before Attila, escaped 
to a number of marshy islands, but a few feet abc <tm +he water, 
at the extremity of the Adriatic Sea. Here they laid the foun- 
dations of Venice, the " Queen of the Adriatic," — that city of 
the sea, which subsequently almost outvied Rome in opulence, 
power, and splendor, and whose magnificence, even in decay, 
attracts tourists from all parts of the world. " The grass never 
grows,' 1 said this demoniac warrior, " where my horse has onco 
placed his hoof." 

Valentinian III., having attained early manhood, developed 
an exceedingly profligate character. The Eastern and West- 
ern empires were now permanently divided, never again to be 
united. Arcadius was emperor at Constantinople. Kings gen- 
erally contrive to live in splendor, whatever may be the poverty 
of their subjects. St. Chrysostom, in one of his sermons, 
speaks reproachfully of the splendor in which Arcadius in- 
dulged. 

" The emperor," says he, " wears on his head either a diadem 



362 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

or a crown of gold, decorated with precious stones of inestimable 
value. These ornaments and his purple garments are reserved 
for his sacred person alone. His robes of silk are embroidered 
with the figures of golden dragons. His throne is of massive 
gold. Whenever he appears in public, he is surrounded by 
his courtiers, his guards, and his attendants. Their spears, 
their shields, their cuirasses, the bridles and trappings of their 
horses, have either the substance or the appearance of gold. 

" The two mules that draw the chariot of the monarch are 
perfectly white, and shining all over with gold. The chariot, 
itself of pure and solid gold, attracts the admiration of the 
spectators, who contemplate the purple curtains, the snowy 
carpet, the size of the precious stones, and the resplendent 
plates of gold, which glitter as they are agitated by the motion 
of the carriage." 

St. Chrysostom, from whose works the above extracts are 
taken, was one of the most distinguished ecclesiastics and 
preachers of that day. He had been pastor of the church in 
Antioch, where, in substitution of his true name of John, he had 
by his e^quence acquired the epithet of Chrysostom, or " the 
Golden Mouth." His renown secured for him the unanimous 
cal 1 . of the court, the clergy, and the people, to the archbishopric 
of Constantinople. 

Chrysostom was of noble birth, of ardent piety, highly edu- 
cated, and was one of the most attractive and powerful of pul- 
pit orators. He had been educated for the law. Becoming a 
Christian, he devoted himself to the gospel ministry. He lived 
humbly, devoting the revenues of the bishopric to objects of 
benevolence. His eloquent discourses, couched in copious and 
elegant language, and enlivened by an inexhaustible fund 
of illustrations, drew crowds even from the theatre and the 
circus. Nearly a thousand of his sermons are preserved. . They 
witness to his " happy art of engaging the passions in the ser- 
vice of virtue, and of exposing the folly as well as the turpitude 
of vice almost with the truth and spirit of dramatic represen- 
tation." 1 

i Gibbon. 



THE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIAN. 3G3 

From the pulpit of St. Sophia in Constantinople, Chrysostom, 
with the boldness of one of the ancient prophets, thundered 
forth his anathemas against the corruptions of the times. He 
spared neither the court nor the people. A conspiracy was 
formed against him, in whiclnsome of the unworthy clergy, irri- 
tated by his denunciations, united. .Theophilus, Archbishop of 
Alexandria, led the clerical party. Eudoxia, the dissolute wife 
of the Emperor Arcadius, exasperated by the rumor that the 
audacious preacher had reviled her under the name of Jezebel, 
arrayed the court influence against him. He was finally ban- 
ished to the extreme border of the Euxine or Black Sea. The 
infuriate queen doomed the Christian bishop to exile to Cucu- 
sus, a dreary and far-distant town among the defiles of the 
Caucasian Mountains. 

" A secret hope was entertained," writes Gibbon, " that the 
archbishop might perish in a difficult and dangerous march 
of seventy days, in the heat of summer, through the provinces 
of Asia Minor, where he was continually threatened by the 
hostile attacks of the Isanrians. Yet Chrysostom arrived in 
safety at the place of his confinement ; and the three years 
which he spent at Cucusus were the last and most glorious of 
his life. 

"His character was consecrated by absence and persecution. 
The faults of his administration were no longer remembered : 
every tongue repeated the praises of his genius and virtue ; and 
the respectful attention of the Christian world was fixed on a 
desert spot among the mountains of Taurus. 

"From that solitude, the archbishop, whose active mind was 
invigorated by misfortunes, maintained a strict and frequent 
correspondence with the most distant provinces; exhorted the 
separate congregation of his faithful adherents to persevere i.!i 
their allegiance ; extended his pastoral care to the missions of 
Persia and Scythia; negotiated, by his ambassadors, with the 
Roman pontiff and the Emperor Honorius; and boldly appealed 
from a partial synod to the supreme tribunal of a free and gen- 
eral council. The mind of the illustrious exile was still inde- 
pendent j but his captive body was exposed to all the revenge 



364 



HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 



of Lis oppressors, who continued to abuse the name and author* 
ity of Arcadius. 

"An order was despatched for the instant removal cf Chrys- 
ostom to the extreme Desert of Pityus. His guard so faithfully 
obeyed their cruel instructions, that, before he readied the sea- 
coast of the Euxine, he expired at Comana, in Pontus, in the 
sixty-third year of his age." l 

Exhausted by the long journey on foot, with his head un- 
covered in the burning heat of the sun, he joyfully welcomed 
the approach of death. Clothing himself in white robes, as in 
a bridal garment, he partook of the sacrament of the Lord's 
Supper; olfered a fervent prayer, which he closed with the cus- 
tomary words, "Praise be to God for all things!" and sweetly 
fell asleep in Jesus. His remains were first entombed in the 
chapel of the martyr St. Basil. After slumbering there thirty 
yoars. they were transported, with eveiy demonstration of re- 
spect, to Constantinople. The Emperor Theodosius, then upon 
the throne, advanced as far as Chalcedon to meet them. Pall- 
ing prostrate upon the coffin, he implored, in the name of his 
guilty parents Arcadius and Eudoxia, the forgiveness of the 
wrongs which the Christian bishop had received at their hands. 
At a later period, the remains of Chrysostom were removed to 
the Vatican, at Pome, where they now repose. 

Over two hundred of the letters which Chrysostom wrote 
during his exile are still extant. They all breathe a remark- 
able spirit of cheerful trust in the promise that " all things 
Tfor!r together for good to them that love God." 2 

The terrible persecutions to which the Christians had been 
exposed had driven many into the wilderness, where they 
sought refuge amidst rocks and caves. The fearful social cor- 
ruptions of the times also led some to flee from temptations too 
strong for flesh and blood to bear. The. hut of the hermit and 
the cell of the monk gradually expanded into the massive 
and battlemented monastery, where considerable communities 
took refuge. Though these institutions gradual!}'' degenerated, 
as almost every thing human does, they were in their origin a 
» Gibbon, chap, xxxii. 8 Rom. viii. 28. 






THE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OP JtiLiAft. 365 

necessity. Chrysostom, in the earlier periods of his Christian 
life, had resided for some time with the anchorites who had 
sought a retreat in the mountains near Antioch. 

One can scarcely conceive of a more melancholy spectacle 
of national wretchedness than Italy now exhibited. Attila the 
Hun had trampled beneath the feet of his impetuous legions 
nearly all opposition. This extraordinary man is described 
by his contemporaries as possessing the coarse features of a 
modern Calmuck. His head was large and bushy, with an 
abundance of hair; bis complexion was swarthy ; with deep- 
seated eyes, a flat nose, and a few straggling hairs for a beard. 
Broad shoulders, and a short, stout body, gave indication of 
immense muscular strength. His bearing was excessively 
haughty; and he had the habit of wildly rolling his eyes, as if 
he wished to enjoy the terror which he could thus inspire. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



THE FIFTH CENTURY. 



Christianity the only Possible Religion. — Adventures of Placidia. — Her Marriago 
■with Adolphus the Goth. — Scenes of Violence and Crime. — Attila the Ilun. — 
Nuptials of Idaho. — Eudoxia and her Fate. —Triumph of Odoacer the Goth. — 
Character of the Roman Nobles. — Conquests of Theodoric. — John Chrysostom. 
— The Origin of Monasticism. — Augustine. —His Dissipation, Conversion, and 
Christian Career. — Ilis "Confessions." 



^%^ 







HE fifth century dawned luridly upon our sad 
world. There was no stable government any- 
where. The Roman empire, which, oppressive 
as it had often been, was far better than anarchy, 
had now become but a crumbling ruin, which 
no human energy or skill could rebuild. The 
attempt by Julian the Apostate to reinstate 
paganism had proved so utter and humiliating a failure, that 
there was no possibility of the undertaking being ever again 
repeated. 

There can be but one religion which an enlightened wcrld 
will accept; and that is Christianity. If Christianity is re- 
nounced, the world will never adopt any substitute which has 
yet been proposed. The superstitions of barbarians are all too 
senseless to be thought of for a moment. Though there was 
a political party in the Roman empire who rallied around 
Julian, even many of his partisans regarded his efforts to rein- 
state paganism with ridicule and contempt. The wits of the 
day lampooned him mercilessly. 

Honorius, Emperor of the West, after a disastrous reign of 

SGG 



TUE PIFTS CENTURY. 36? 

twenty-eight years, died in the year 423. Weary scenes of 
anarchy and bloodshed ensued, which we have no space to 
describe. Placidia, a Christian princess, daughter of the great 
Theodosius, had been carried away captive by the Goths. The 
splendor of her birth, her marvellous personal beauty, and tho 
elegance of her manners, won universal admiration. The young 
Gothic king Adolphus, who was a man of unusual grace both 
of person and mind, won the hand and heart of his captive. 
The nuptials were attended with great splendor at Narbonne, 
as we have mentioned in the previous chapter. 

"The bride/' writes Gibbon, "attired and adorned like a 
Boman empress, was placed on a throne of state ; and the 
king of the Goths, who assumed on this occasion the Roman 
habit, contented himself with a less honorable seat by her side. 
The nuptial gift, which, according to the custom of his nation, 
was offered to Placidia, consisted of the rare and magnificent 
spoils of her country. The barbarians enjoyed the insolence 
of their triumph ; and the provincials rejoiced in this alliance, 
which tempered by the mild influence of love and reason the 
fierce spirit of their Gothic lord.'' * 

The love of Adolphus for his beautiful bride was not abated 
by time or possession. A year passed, when they rejoiced in 
the birth of a son, whom they named Theodosius, after his illus- 
trious grandfather. The death of this child in his infancy 
caused great grief to his parents. He was buried in a silver 
coffin in one of the churches near Barcelona. Soon after this, 
Adolphus was assassinated in his palace, at Barcelona, by one 
of his followers, — Sarus. Singeric, the brother of Sarus, seized 
the Gothic throne. He immediately murdered the six children 
of Adolphus, the issue of a former marriage. Placidia was 
treated with the most cruel and wanton insult. The daugh- 
ter of the renowned Emperor Theodosius was driven on foot, 
amidst a crowd of vulgar captives, twelve miles, before the 
horse of a barbarian who had murdered her husband. 

Singeric enjoyed his elevation but seven days, when assassi- 
nation terminated his earthly being. Wallia, who by the suf- 

* Vol. iv. p. 84. 



S88 History op ctmisTiAmtr. 

fragcs of the Goths succeeded to the throne, restored Placidia 
to her brother Honorius. The reign of the barbarians in 
Gaul, with their wars and their plunderings, caused for a time 
the ruin of those once opulent provinces. 

Attila the Hun, to whom we have alluded, with an innumera- 
ble horde of the ferocious warriors, invaded Italy, everywhera 
perpetrating atrocious acts of cruelty. The barbarians masst^ 
cred their prisoners, inflicting upon them inhuman tortures, ap- 
parently from the mere love of cruelty. Two hundred beauti- 
ful young maidens were exposed to every cruelty which savage 
ingenuity could devise. Their bodies were torn asunder by 
wild horses, and their mutilated limbs left unburied. Attila 
overran the rich plains of Lombardy, and established him- 
self in the palace of Milan. The senate of Rome, terror- 
stricken, sent an embassage to implore peace of the barbarian. 
Attila demanded the Princess Honoria, daughter of the Em- 
peror Valentinian, for his bride, and one-half of the kingdom of 
Italy as -her dowry. While negotiations were pending, and 
Honoria was trembling in anticipation of her dreadful doom, 
the fierce Hun ravaged large portions of Gaul and Italy at the 
head of half a million of warriors as tierce and merciless as 
wolves. 

The victorious Hun retired to the wilds of the North to re- 
plenish his diminished hordes, threatening to return and inflict 
still more signal vengeance, unless the bride he demanded, and 
the dowry claimed with her, were immediately granted him. In 
the mean time, he added to his harem of innumerable wives a 
beautiful maiden named Idaho. 

" Their marriage," writes Gibbon, " was celebrated with bar- 
barian pomp and festivity at his wooden palace beyond the 
Danube ; and the monarch, oppressed with wine and sleep, re- 
tired at a late hour from the banquet to the nuptial-couch. His 
attendants continued to respect his pleasures or his repose the 
greater part of the ensuing day, till the unusual silence alarmed 
their fears and suspicions ; and, after attempting to awaken 
Attila by loud and repeated cries, they at length broke into the 
royal apartment. They found the trembling bride sitting by 



THE FIFTH CENTURY. 369 

the bedside, hiding her face with her veil, and lamenting her 
own danger, as well as the death of the king, who had expired 
during the night. An artery had suddenly hurst ; and, as At- 
tlla lay in a supine posture, he was suffocated by a torrent of 
blood, which, instead of finding a passage through the nostrils, 
regurgitated into the lungs and stomach. His body was sol- 
emnly exposed in the midst of the plain under a silken pavil- 
ion ; and the chosen squadrons of the Huns, wheeling around 
in measured evolutions, chanted a funeral-song in memory of 
a hero glorious in his life, invincible in his death, the father 
of his people, and the terror of the world. 

"According to their national custom, the barbarians cut off 
a part of their hair, gashed their faces with unseemly wounds, 
and bewailed their valiant leader as he deserved, not with the 
tears of women, but. with the blood of warriors. The remains 
of Attila were enclosed within three coffins, — of gold, of silver, 
and of iron, — and were privately buried in the night. The 
spoils of nations were thrown into his grave. The captives 
who 1] ad opened the ground were inhumanly massacred ; and 
the same Huns who had indulged such excessive grief, feasted, 
with dissolute and intemperate mirth, about the recent sepul- 
chre of their king." 

Valentinian inveigled a noble lady, alike illustrious for beauty 
and piety, to his palace, where he treated her with such indig- 
nities as to rouse to the highest pitch the wrath of her husband 
and friends. A conspiracy w r as formed by her husband Maxi- 
mus, a Roman senator ; and Yalentinian died beneath the dag- 
gers which his crimes had unsheathed. The solders placed 
the diadem upon the brow of Maximus. His wife soon after 
died ; and he endeavored to compel Eudoxia, the widow of Val- 
entinian, to become nis spouse. She recoiled from throwing 
herself into the arms of the murderer of her husband, and ap- 
pealed for aid to Genseric, one of those powerful Vandal kings 
who had wrested Africa from the Boman empire. 

G-enseric joyfully espoused her cause. With a large fleet he 
entered the Tiber, advanced to Borne, and captured the city. 
In the struggle, Maximus was slain, and unhappy Eome was 



370 BISTOttY OF CHEISTIANITY. 

surrendered to the Moors and the Yandals to be pillaged for 
fourteen days. The barbarian Genseric carried back m f .o the 
wilds of Africa, as slaves, Eudoxia, the widowed Empress of 
Rome, and her two daughters. Many other Roman matrons and 
maidens swelled the long train of captives who were dragged 
into life-long bondage. 

" Eudoxia," writes Gibbon, " was rudely stripped of her 
jewels ; and the unfortunate empress, with her two daughters, 
the only surviving remains of the great Theodosius, was com- 
pelled as a captive to follow the haughty Vandal, who im- 
mediately hoisted sail, and returned, with a prosperous naviga- 
tion, to the port of Carthage. Many thousand Romans of both 
sexes, chosen for some useful or agreeable qualifications, reluc- 
tantly embarked on board the fleet of Genseric ; and their dis- 
tress was aggravated by the unfeeling barbarians, who, in the 
division of the booty, separated the wives from their husbands, 
and the children from their parents." 

The whole world seemed to be now essentially in the condi- 
tion of a city surrendered to the mob. There was no stable 
government anywhere. There was nowhere peace or pros 
perity or joy. Man's corruption had filled the earth with 
misery. Still there were thousands of individual Christians, 
in obscurity and through much tribulation, struggling nobly to 
their throne and their crown in heaven. 

It is difficult to conceive of a more melancholy spectacle 
than Italy presented. The barbarians were masters of the 
whole Peninsula. Odoacer, a stern" Gothic warrior, after sev- 
eral years of the wildest anarchy, with wars and assassinations 
too numerous to mention, in the year 47 f 5 compelled the Roman 
senate by a formal decree to abolish ihe imperial successior , 
and to recognize him as the military chieftain of Italy. Thus, 
after the decay of ages, the Roman empire fell, to rise no more. 

Sagaciously this ferocious barbarian respected time-honored 
institutions. He conferred upon his captains titles cf dukes 
and counts, thus perpetuating and extending the f3udal sys- 
tem. The Roman nobles, surrendering themseVes to j^i sen- 
sual indulgence, had sunk into the lowesu debasement. A con- 



THE FIFTH VENTURt. 371 

temporary historian, Animianus Marcellinus, gives the follow- 
ing graphic account of the aristocracy of Rome at that time : — 

" The ostentation of presenting the rent-roll of their estates 
provokes the resentment of every man who remembers that 
their poor ancestors were not distinguished from the meanest 
of the soldiers. The modern nobles measure their rank by the 
splendor of their carriages and the magnificence of their dress. 
Followed by a train of fifty slaves, they sweep the streets with 
impetuous speed. When they condescend to visit the public 
baths, they assume a -tone of loud and insolent command, and 
appropriate to themselves conveniences designed for the Roman 
people. Sometimes they visit their plantations in the country, 
and, by the toil of servile hands, engage in the amusements of 
the chase. When they travel, they are followed by a multitude 
of cooks and inferior servants, accompanied by a promiscuous 
crowd of slaves and dependent plebeians. They express ex- 
quisite sensibility for any personal injury, and contemptuous 
indifference for all the rest of the human species. Should they 
call for some water, and a slave be tardy in bringing it, the 
slave would be punished with three hundred lashes. 

" A sure method of introduction to the society of the great 
is skill in gambling. The confederates are united by an indis- 
soluble bond of friendship, or rather of conspiracy. The acqui- 
sition of knowledge seldom engages their attention who abhor 
the fatigue and disdain the advantages of study. The distress 
which chastises extravagant luxury often reduces them to the 
most humiliating expedients. When they wish to borrow, 
they are as suppliant as a slave. When called upon to pay, 
they assume airs of indolence, as if they were the grandsons 
of Hercules/"'" 

Italy had indeed fallen : the barbaric leader of a semi-civ- 
ilized band was her enthroned monarch. During a reign of 
fourteen years, vast crowds of emigrants from the bleak realms 
north of the Rhine and the Danube flocked into sunny Italy. 

They received a cordial welcome from Odoacer, and rapidly 
blended with the people among whom they took up their resi- 
dence. But fertile and beautiful Italy was too rich a prize in 



372 HISTORT OF OHRISTIANtTt. 

the eyes of the powerful Northern nations to be long left in the 
undisputed possession of Odoacer. 

Upon the northern hanks of the Euxine Sea there was a 
populous nation called the Ostrogoths. Their king, Theodorie, 
had been educated at Constantinople, and was a civilized man, 
reigning over a comparatively barbaric people. He commenced 
his march upon Italy, accompanied by the whole nation. 

" The march of Theodorie," says Gibbon, " must be consid- 
ered as the emigration of an entire people. Each bold barba- 
rian who had heard of the wealth and beauty of Italy was 
impatient to seek, through the most perilous adventures, the 
possession of such enchanting objects. The wives and children 
of the Goths, their aged parents and most precious effects., were 
carefully transported ; and some idea may be formed of the heavy 
baggage that followed the camp, by the loss of two thousand 
wagons, which had been sustained in a single action in the war 
of Epirus. For their subsistence the Goths depended on the 
magazines of corn, which was ground in portable mills by the 
hands of their women; on the milk and flesh of their flocks 
and herds; on the casual produce of the chase; and upon the 
contributions which they might impose on all who should pre- 
sume to dispute their passage or to refuse their friendly assist- 
ance. Notwithstanding these precautions, they were exposed 
to the danger and almost to the distress of famine in a inarch 
of seven hundred miles, which had been undertaken in the 
depth of a rigorous winter." l 

Their march was through provinces devastated by war and 
famine. Still Theodorie had many fierce battles to wage ere 
he descended the. southern declivities of the Julian Alps, and 
displaj^ed his banners on the confines of Italy. Odoacer met 
him on the eastern frontiers of Venetia. Conquered in a bloody 
battle, he retreated to the walls of Verona; and all Venetia fell 
into the hands of the Ostrogoths. Odoacer made another stand 
upon the banks of the Adige : a still more sanguinary battle 
was fought, and the broken bands of Odoacer fled to Kavenna, 
on the Adriatic. Theodorie marched triumphantly to Milan, 
i Vol. v. p. 8. 



THE FIFTH CENTURY. 373 

where the ever-fickle multitude received the conqueror with 
every demonstration of joy. Still, for three years, wretched 
Italy was desolated by war : misery reigned from the Alps to 
the extremity of the Peninsula, as man's inhumanity to man 
caused countless millions to mourn. 

At length, Theodoric was victorious : having annihilated 
the armies of the Goths, and plunged his sword into the bosom 
of Odoacer, he entered upon the undisputed sovereignty of the 
whole of Italy. Theodoric governed this most beautiful of 
realms with energy, wisdom, and humanity. A third of the 
lands of Italy were divided among his own people. For thirty- 
three years he reigned with sagacity, which has given him the 
designation of " the Great.''" He was nominally a Christian, as 
were very many of his followers. The days of paganism had 
passed, never to return. Christianity had in a remarkable 
degree pervaded the barbaric nations outside the limits of the 
Roman empire. 

Christianity, which had gained such signal victories over the 
learned and luxurious Romans, was equally triumphant over 
the warlike barbarians of Scythia and Germany. These fierce 
hordes, in their military incursions, carried back into their sav- 
age wilds thousands of captives. Many of these were Christians, 
and some were clergymen. They were dispersed as slaves 
throughout the wide realms of their conquerors. They, like the 
early disciples who were scattered from Jerusalem, proclaimed, 
in the huts of their barbaric masters, the gospel of Jesus, and 
won many triumphs to the cross of Christ. 

John Chrysostom, whom we have mentioned as one of the 
most illustrious men of these days, upon becoming a Christian 
when but little over twenty years of age, abandoned all the ambi- 
tion of life, and retired to the ceils of the anchorites who were 
dwelling on the mountains in the vicinity of Antioch. Chrys- 
ostom gives us the following account of the mode of life then 
adopted by the anchorite3 : — 

" They rise with the first crowing of the cock, or at midnight. 
After having read psalms and hymns in common, each, in his 
separate cell, is occupied in reading the Holy Scriptures^ or in 



374 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

copying books. Then they proceed to church, and, after mass, 
return quietly to their habitations. They never speak to each 
other. Their nourishment is bread and salt : some add oil to 
it, and the invalids vegetables. After meals they rest a few- 
moments, and then return to their usual occupations. They till 
the ground, fell wood, make baskets and clothes, and wash the 
feet .of travellers. Their bed is a mat spread upon the ground ; 
their dress consists of skins or cloths made of the hair of goats 
or camels. They go barefooted, have no property, and never 
pronounce the words mine and thine. Undisturbed peace 
dwells in their habitations, and a cheerfulness scarcely known 
in the world." 

There can be no question as to the sincerity of these clois- 
tered monks, misguided as they were. Chrysostom dwelt in a 
cavern for two years, without lying down. His penance was 
so severe, that he was thrown into a fit of sickness, which com- 
pelled his return to Antioch. After a life of tireless activity, 
many persecutions, and efficient devotion to the interests of the 
Church, he died, as we have mentioned, in exile, in the sixty- 
third year of his age. 

" The name of Chrysostom, ' Golden-mouthed/ was assigned 
to him after his death to express the eloquence which he pos- 
sessed in so much greater a degree than the other fathers 
of the Church. He never repeats himself, and is always origi- 
nal. The vivacity and power of his imagination, the force of 
his logic, his power of arousing the passions, the beauty and 
accuracy of his comparisons, the neatness and purity of his 
style, his clearness and sublimity, place him on a level with 
the most celebrated Greek authors. The Greek Church has 
not a more accomplished orator." 1 

The inclination for monastic seclusion very rapidly increased. 
Some sought the silence of the desert because they felt unable 
to resist the temptations of busy life ; some, to escape from per- 
secution ; some, as a refuge from remorse ; some, from the con- 
viction that sin might be atoned for by self-inflicted suffering ; 
gome, from disgust at life, or a natural fondness for solitude 



THE FIFTH CENTURY. 375 

and contemplation. In the middle of the fourth century, there 
was a colony of these anchorets upon the Island of Tabenna, in 
the Nile, numbering fifty thousand persons. They lived in the 
extreme of abstinence, occupying cheerless cells in very humble 
huts. 

Men only at first entered upon this hermit life. About the 
middle of the fourth century, female monasteries, or convents 
of nuns, were instituted. 

This retirement from the world to the cloister in those 
troublous times proved by no means an unmixed evil. Gradu- 
ally very solemn monastic vows and extremely rigid rules of 
discipline were introduced. 

" These houses now became the dwellings of piety, industry, 
and temperance, and the refuge of learning driven to them for 
shelter from the troubles of the times. Missionaries were sent 
out from them : deserts and solitudes were made habitable by 
industrious monks. And in promoting the progress of agri- 
culture, and civilizing the German and Sclavonian nations, they 
certainly rendered great services to the world from the sixth 
century to the ninth. But it must be* admitted that these insti- 
tutions, so useful in the dark ages of barbarism, changed their 
character to a great degree as their wealth and influence in- 
creased. Idleness and luxury crept within their walls, together 
with all the vices of the world ; and their decay became inevi- 
table." 1 

In the early part of this century Augustine died, a man 
whose renown has been fresh in the Church for fourteen 
hundred years. He was born in Tagasta, a small city in 
Africa, on the 13th of November, 354. His father was a 
pagan, though he became a disciple of Jesus just before his 
death. His mother was an earnest Christian, by whose pious 
teachings Augustine in his early childhood was deepl}* - im- 
pressed. While a mere boy, upon a sudden attack of dan- 
gerous sickness, he entreated that he might be baptized, and 
received into the fold of Christ. The sudden disappearance of 
alarming symptoms led his mother to hesitate, fearing that he 

1 Encyclopaedia Americana. 



376 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

might again fall into sin, and that then his baptism would only 
add to his condemnation. Augustine afterwards expressed the 
opinion that this was a great mistake. He thought, that, had 
he then made a profession of his faith in Christ, it would have 
operated as an incentive to a holy life, and would have saved 
him from much subsequent sin and suffering. 

With returning 'health, temptation came, and the boy of 
ardent passions was swept away by the flood. "My weak 
age," he writes, "was hurried along through the whirlpool of 
flagitiousness. The displeasure of God was all the time im- 
bittering my soul. Where was I, in that sixteenth year of my 
age, when the madness of lust seized me altogether ? My God, 
thou spakest to me by my mother, and through her warned me 
strongly against the ways of vice. But my mother's voice I 
despised, and thought it to be only the voice of a woman. So 
bliuded was I, that I was ashamed to be thought less guilty 
than my companions. I even invented false stories of my 
sinful exploits, that I might win their commendation. 

" I committed theft from the wantonness of iniquity : it was 
not the effect of the theft, but the sin itself, which I wished to 
enjoy. There was a pear-tree in the neighborhood loaded with 
fruit. At dead of night, in company with some profligate 
youths, I plundered the tree. The spoil was thrown away ; for 
I had abundance of better fruit at home. What did I mean 
that I should be gratuitously wicked ? " 

The father of Augustine, though not wealthy, had sufficient 
means and the disposition to afford his son all existing facili- 
ties for the acquisition of a thorough education. The young 
man devoted himself sedulously to the cultivation of eloquence. 
In the pursuit of his studies, he repaired to Carthage, then the 
abode of intellect, wealth, and splendor. Here he plunged 
quite recklessly into fashionable dissipation. When seventeen 
years of age, his father died; but his fond mother maintained 
him at Carthage. It is manifest that he was still the subject 
of deep religious impressions. Upon reading the " Hortensius " 
of Cicero, he was clrarmed with its philosophy ; but he writes, — 

" The only thing which damped my zeal was, that the name 



THE FIFTH CENTUhY. Zll 

of Christ was not there, — that precious name, which from ray 
mother's milk I had learned to reverence ; and whatever was 
without this name, however just and learned and polite, could 
not wholly carry away my heart." 

He commenced studying the Scriptures, but with that proud, 
self-sufficient spirit which debarred him from all spiritual 
enlightenment. His haughty frame, he afterwards confessed, 
"justly exposed him to believe in the most ridiculous absurdi- 
ties." 

"For nine years," he writes, "while I was rolling in the 
slime of sin, often attempting to rise, and still sinking deeper, 
did my mother in vigorous hope persist in incessant prayer for 
me. She entreated a certain bishop to reason me out of my 
errors. He replied, 'Your son is too much elated at present 
with the pleasing novelty of his error to regard any argu- 
ments, as appears by the pleasure he takes in puzzling many 
ignorant persons with his captious questions. Let him alone : 
only continue to pray to the Lord for him. It is not possible 
that a child of such tears should perish.' " 

" My mother," writes Augustine, " has often told me since, 
that this answer impressed her mind like a voice from heaven." 

For nine years, from the nineteenth to the twenty-eighth 
of his age, this very brilliant young man lived in the indulgence 
of practices which he knew to be sinful. His pride of character 
and his high intellectual attainments precluded his entrance 
upon scenes of low and vulgar vice. He was genteelly and fash- 
ionably wicked. He had attained distinction as a teacher of 
rhetoric, and supported himself in that way. There was a young 
man in Carthage who had been a nominal Christian, the child 
of Christian parents, and a companion and friend of Augustine 
from childhood. A very strong friendship sprang up between 
them ; and Augustine succeeded ill drawing this young man 
away from the Christian faith, and in luring him into his own 
paths of error and of sin. 

This young man was taken dangerously sick. When uncon- 
scious, and apparently near his end, he was, by the wish of his 
parents, baptized. Contrary to all expectation, he recovered 
Augustine writes, — 



378 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

f 

" I regarded his baptism when in a state of unconsciousness 
with great indifference, not doubting that he would adhere to 
my instructions. As soon as I had an opportunity of convers- 
ing with him, I attempted to turn into ridicule his late baptism, 
in which I expected his concurrence. But he dreaded me as 
an enemy, and with wonder/ul freedom admonished me, that, 
if I would be his friend, I should drop the subject. Confounded 
at this unexpected behavior, I deferred the conversation till he 
should be thoroughly recovered." 

There was a relapse, and the young man died. Augustine 
was overwhelmed with anguish : remorse was manifestly in 
some degree commingled with his grief. Time gradually les- 
sened his sorrow ; and in his restlessness he resolved to go to 
Rome, there to seek new excitements and a larger field of am- 
bition. Knowing that his widowed mother's heart would be 
broken by his abandonment of her, he deceived her, and, upon 
pretence of taking a sail with a friend, left his home to seek his 
fortune in the renowned metropolis of the world. 

"Thus," he w r rites, "did I deceive my mother; and such a 
mother ! Yet was I preserved from the dangers of the sea, 
foul as I was in the mire of sin. But the time was coming 
when thou, God ! wouldst wipe away my mother's tears ; and 
even this base undutifulness thou hast forgiven me. The wind 
favored us, and carried us out of sight of shore. In the morn- 
ing, my mother was distracted with grief : she wept and wailed, 
and was inconsolable in her violent agonies. In her, affection 
was very strong. But, wearied of grief, she returned to her 
former emploj^ment of praying for me, and went home ; while I 
continued my journey to Eome." 

Soon after his arrival in the city, he was taken dangerously 
sick, and his life was despaired of. In the lethargy of his sick- 
ness, he thought but little of his sins and his danger. His 
mother, though uninformed of his sickness, repaired to the 
church every morning and evening, there to pray for the con- 
version of her son. Gradually Augustine regained his health, 
and was invited to give some lectures upon rhetoric in Milan. 
Bishop Ambrose was pastor of the church ihere, — $ man of 



THE FIFTH CENTURY. 379 

superior intellectual powers, and who had acquired renown both 
as a logician and an orator. Young Augustine called upon the 
bishop. 

" The man of God," he writes, " received me as a father ; 
and I conceived an affection for him, not as a teacher of truth, 
which I had no idea of discovering in the Church, but as a man 
kind to me. I studiously attended his preaching, only with a 
curious desire of discovering whether fame had done justice to 
his eloquence or not. Gradually I was brought to attend to 
the doctrine of the bishop. I found reason to rebuke myself 
for the hasty conclusions I had formed of the indefensible nature 
of the law and the prophets. The possibility of finding truth 
in the Church of Christ appeared." 

His mother, drawn by love and anxiety, now left Carthage, 
and, crossing the Mediterranean, went to Milan, where she 
became united to her wayward and wandering son. Augustine 
informed his mother of the partial change which had taken 
place in his views, and that he was in the habit of attending 
the preaching of Bishop Ambrose. She replied, " I believe in 
Christ, that, before I leave this world, I shall see you a sound 
believer." She made the acquaintance of the bishop, interested 
him still more deeply in her son, and, with renewed fervor, 
pleaded with God for his conversion. 

"Ambrose," Augustine writes, "was charmed with the fervor 
of my mother's piety, her amiableness, and her good works. He 
often congratulated me that I had such a mother, little know- 
ing what sort of a son she had. The state of my mind was 
now somewhat altered. Ashamed of past delusions, I was the 
moic anxious to be guided right for the time to come. I was 
completely convinced of the falsehood of the many things I 
had once uttered with so much confidence." 

A season of great anxiety and sadness now ensued. He was 
firmly convinced of the divine authority of that Bible, which, 
in his infidelity, he had rejected. Still he had not as yet sur- 
rendered his heart to the Saviour, and had found no peace in 
believing. In comparison with eternal things, all the pursuits 
of tni3 world seemed trivial, His heart was like the troubled 



I 



380 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

sea: his conscience reproached him for neglecting the salva- 
tion of his soul. The following extract from his " Confessions" 
gives a vivid idea of the struggles in which his spirit was then 
engaged : — 

"Your mornings," I said to myself, "are for your pupils: 
why, then, do you not attend to religious duties in the after- 
noon ? But, then, what time should I have to attend to the 
levees of the great ? What, then, if death should suddenly seize 
you, and judgment overtake you uirprepared? But what if 
death be the end of our being ? Yet far from my soul be such a 
thought ! God would never have given such proof of the truth 
of Christianity if the soul died with the body. Why, then, do 
I not give myself wholly to God ? But do not be in a hurry. 
You have influential friends, and may yet attain wealth and 
honor in the world. In such an agitation of mind," continues 
Augustine, "did I live, seeking happiness, yet flying from 
it." 

Twelve years had now passed away, during which Augustine 
had been professedly seeking the truth, and yet had found no 
peace. " I had," he writes, " deferred from day to day devoting 
myself to God, under the pretence that I was uncertain where 
the truth lay." 

And then the question occurred to him, " How is it that so 
many humble persons find peace so speedily in religion, while 
I, with all my philosophy and anxious reasonings, remain year 
after year in darkness and doubt ? " Conscious that the difficul- 
ty was to be found in his own stubborn will, he retired in great 
agitation to a secluded spot in the garden, and, as- he writes, 
"with vehement indignation I rebuked my sinful spirit because 
it would not give itself up to God." His anguish was great, 
and he wept bitterly. Falling upon his knees beneath a fig- 
tree, witli tears and trembling utterance he exclaimed, — 

"0 Lord! how long shall I say to-morrow ? Why should 
not this hour put an end to my slavery ? " 

Just then, he fancied that he heard a voice saying to him, 
"Take up, and read." He had with him Paul's epistles. 
Opening the book, the first passage which met his eve was 



TEE FIFTH CENTURY. 381 

this, found in the thirteenth chapter of Romans, thirteenth and 
fourteenth verses : — 

" Let us walk honestly, as in the day ; not in rioting and 
drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife 
and envying. But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make 
not provision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof." 

The besetting sin of Augustine, and the great and crying 
shame of the times, was sensuality. The passage came to his 
mind as a direct message from Heaven. It said to him, "Aban- 
don every sin, renounce your pursuits of earthly ambition, and 
commence a new life of faith in Jesus Christ." He at once 
was enabled to make the surrender : all his doubts vanished ; 
and that " hope, which we have as an anchor of the soul, both 
sure and steadfast," dawned upon his mind. 

He immediately hastened to his mother to inform her of 
the joyful event ; and she rejoiced with him with heartfelt 
sympathy such as none but a Christian mother can understand. 
In commenting upon this change, Augustine writes, "The 
whole of my difficulty lay in a will stubbornly set in oppo- 
sition to God. But from what deep secret was my free will 
called out in a moment, by which I bowed my shoulders to 
thy light burden, Christ Jesus, my Helper and my Redeemer ?" 
Where is the thoughtful Christian who has not often asked 
this question ? — 

""Why was I mr.dc to hear Thy voice, 
And enter while there's room, 
"When thousands make a wretched choice, 
And rather starve than come ? " 

The reply which our Saviour makes to this inquiry is not 
an explanation : " The wind bloweth where it listeth, and 
thou nearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it 
cometh, and whither it goeth : so is every one that is born of 
the Spirit." 

Augustine relinquished his profession of a teacher of rheto- 
ric, and, guided by Bishop Ambrose, entered upon the study 
of theology. He was baptized in the church of Milan with 



382 iriSTORY of christian itT. 

his son Adeodatus, whom he acknowledged as his child. Au* 
gustine decided to return to Carthage with his mother ; but, 
just as they were about to embark at the mouth of the Tiber, 
she was taken sick, and died. The afflicted son pays a very 
beautiful tribute to her memory, as one of the most noble of 
Christian women. In this eulogy he- makes the following 
statements illustrative of her character and of the times : — 

" My mother, when young, had learned by degrees to drink 
wine, having been sent to draw it for the use of the family. 
How was she delivered from this snare ? God provided for 
her a malignant reproach from a maid in the house, who in a 
passion called her a drunkard. Thus was she cured of her 
evil practice. 

" After her marriage with my father, Patricius, she endeav- 
ored to win him to Christianity by her amiable manners ; and 
patiently she bore his unfaithfulness. His temper was hasty, 
but his spirit kind. She knew how to bear with him when 
angry by a perfect silence and composure ; and, when she saw 
him cool, would meekly expostulate with him. Many matrons 
would complain of the blows and harsh treatment they received 
from their husbands, whom she would exhort to govern their 
tongues. When they expressed astonishment that it was 
never heard that Patricius had beaten his wife, or that they 
ever were at variance a single day, she informed them of her 
plan. Those who followed it thanked her for its good success : 
those who did not experienced vexation. 

" It was a great gift which, my God ! thou gavest her, 
that she never repeated the unkind things which she had 
heard from persons who were at variance with one another ; 
and she was conscientiously exact in saying nothing but what 
might tend to heal and to reconcile. At length, in the ex- 
tremity of life, she gained her husband to thee, and he died 
in the faith of Christ. 

" My mother and I stood alone at a window facing the 
east, near the mouth of the Tiber, where we were preparing 
for our voj^age. Our discourse ascended above the noblest 
parts of the material creation to the consideration of our own 



TEE FIFTH CENTURY. 383 

minds ; and, passing above them, we attempted to reach heaven 
itself, — to come to thee, by whom all things were made. At 
that moment the world appeared to us of no value. She said, 
1 Son, I have now no clinging to life. It was your conversion 
alone for which I wished to live. God has given me this. What 
more is there for me to do here ? ' Scarcely five days after, she 
fell into a fever. She departed this life on the ninth day of 
her illness, in the fifty-sixth year of her age, and the thirty- 
third of mine." 

Augustine returned to Africa, where, after three years of 
retirement and study, he was ordained a preacher of the gospel. 
The fame of his' eloquence rapidly spread throughout the 
Western world, drawing crowds of the pagans, as well as of the 
Christians, to his church ; and ere long he was elected Bishop 
of Hippo. After a life of unwearied devotion to the interests 
of Christianity, preaching the gospel of Christ with simplicity, 
purity, and fervor rarely equalled, and with his pen defending 
the doctrines of grace with logical acumen and philosophic 
breadth of view perhaps never surpassed, this illustrious man 
died in the year 430, in the seventy-sixth year of his age, and 
the fortieth of his ministry. 



CHAPTER XX. 



CENTURIES OF WAR AND WOE. 



Convulsions of the Sixth Century. — Corruption of the Church. —The Rise of Mon- 
asteries. — Rivalry between Rome and Constantinople. — Mohammed and his 
Career. — His Personal Appearance. — His System of Religion. — His Death.— 
Military Expeditions of the Moslems. — The Threatened Conquest of Europe. 
— Capture of Alexandria. — Burning of the Library. — Rise of the Feudal 
System. — Charlemagne. — Barbarian Antagonism to Christianity. 



*c%% 




7) /f^^HE sixth century of the Christian era passed away 
aCO /"$! k like a hideous dream of the night. Wave after 
wave of barharic invasion swept over Europe and 
Asia. Home was sacked five times, m the en- 
durance of violence and woes which no pen can 
describe. Paganism was overthrown ; but grad- 
ually Christianity became paganized. Still, cor- 
rupt as Christianity became, it was an immense improvement 
over the ancient systems of idolatry. The past narrative 
has given the reader some faint idea of what morals were 
under the old Roman emperors. The depravity of man, van- 
quished hi its endeavor to uphold idolatry, with all its pollut- 
ing rites, endeavored to degrade Christianity into a mere sys- 
tem of dead doctrines and pompous ceremonies. In this it 
partially succeeded ; but it was utterly impossible to sink Chris- 
tianity to a level with paganism. 

The disordered state of the times had swept the rural popula- 
tion from the fields, and they were huddled together for protec- 
tion in the villages and walled cities. Immense tracts of land 
all over Europe were left waste. Herds of cattle grazed over 

384 



CENTUBIES OF WAR AND WOE. 385 

these desolate expanses, guarded by armed serfs, who watched 
thern by day, and slept in the fields by their side at night. 
Slavery was universally practised, the conqueror almost invari- 
ably enslaving the conquered. Hence labor became degrading : 
none but slaves would work. It was gentlemanly, it was 
chivalric, to obtain wealth by pillage : it was vulgar, boorish, 
entirely derogatory to all dignity, to move a finger in honest 
industry. The highest offices of the Church were often as- 
signed by unprincipled kings and princes to their worthless 
favorites. Marauding bands, not unfrequently led by these 
false bishops, often fell upon the flocks grazing in the fields, 
slaughtered the herdsrnen, and drove off the herd. 

A very zealous and enlightened Christian, by the name of 
Benedict, endeavored to counteract this ruinous spirit of the 
times : he formed a society quite similar in its organization to 
our temperance associations. This body of reformers soon 
assumed the name of Monks of St. Benedict. For protection 
against the marauding bands which were ever abroad upon 
expeditions of plunder, they built a massive, strongly-fortified 
castle, which they called a monastery, to which the industrious 
community could retreat when assailed. 

"Beware of idleness/' said this noble Christian man, "as 
the great enemy of the soul. No person is more usefully em- 
ployed than when working with his hands, or following the 
plough." 

This was the origin essentially of many of the monasteries 
of Europe : they were noble institutions in their design, and 
thousands of Christians breathing the spirit of Christ found 
within their enclosures peaceful and useful lives when the bil- 
lows of anarchy were surging over nearly all other portions of 
the globe. But that innate proneness to wickedness, which 
seems everywhere to reign, gradually perverted those once 
holy and industrious communities into institutions of indolence 
and sin. Wherever the monastery arose, there originally waved 
around it fields of grain, and fat cattle grazed in the meadows. 
Prayer and labor, faith and works, were combined, as they ever 
should be. The ruins of these monastic edifices still occupy 

25 



386 BISTORT OF CBR1ST1ANITT. 

the most enchanting spots in Europe : they were usually 
reared upon some eminence which commanded an extensive 
prospect : or in some sheltered nook, "by the hanks of a beauti- 
ful stream. The eye of taste is invariably charmed in visiting 
these localities. The pristine monks were a noble set of men; 
and, for ages, learning and piety were sheltered in the cloisters 
which their diligent hands had reared. 

The modern tourist, witnessing the worldly wisdom evidenced 
in their whole plan, and conscious that there is no longer 
occasion for such institutions, forgets the necessities of the 
rude days in which they were constructed, and is too apt sneer- 
ingly to exclaim, — 

" Ah ! those shrewd old monks had a keen eye to creature- 
comforts. They loved the banks of the well-filled stream 
sparkling with salmon and trout : ' they sought out luxuriant 
meadows, where their herds could roll in fatness amidst the 
exuberant verdure ; or the wooded hills, where the red deer 
could bound through the glade, and snowy flocks could graze, 
and yellow harvests, sheltered from the northern winds, could 
ripen in the sun." 

Indeed they did. This was all right, — Christian in the high- 
est degree. " Godliness is profitable unto all things." " The 
hand of the diligent maketh rich." The prior of the monastery 
was not a despot revelling in the toil of others : he was the 
father of the household ; he was the head workman, accompa- 
nying his brethren to the field of honest toil and remunerative 
industry. 

Benedict, usually called St. Benedict, early in the sixth cen- 
tury established a monastery, which subsequently attained 
great celebrity, upon the side of Mount Cassano, near Naples. 
None were admitted to it but men of pure lives, and who had 
established a reputation for such amiability of character as would 
insure their living harmoniously with the other brethren. It 
became the home of piety, industry, and temperance : the per- 
secuted sought refuge there ; scholars sought a retreat there; 
missionaries went out' from it into the wastes which war and 
vice had desolated. 



CENTURIES OF WAR AND WOE. 387 

The cloistered convent may with some propriety he called 
a divine institution : it was the creation of necessity. But, 
in the lapse of ages, royal gifts and the legacies of the dying 
endowed many of them with great wealth. Opulence induced 
indolence, till these cradles of piety hecame the strong for- 
tresses of iniquity ; and modern Christianity has been compelled 
to frown them down. 

From the commencement of these institutions, during a period 
of five hundred years, until the tenth century, many of these 
monasteries exerted a beneficent and noble influence. Chris- 
tianity had began to break the fetters of the slave ; these freed- 
men, the emancipated slaves, were placed under the protec- 
tion of the clergy ; and they often found shelter from oppres- 
sion within sacred walls which secular violence did not dare 
to profane. These convents were for ages the only post-offices 
in the country. Few could read but the higher clergy. It is 
said even of the Emperor Charlemagne, that he could not 
write, and that his signature to any document consisted of 
his dipping his hand in a bowl of red ink, and then im- 
pressing the broad palm upon the parchment. There were but 
few letters passed, save those conveying some important state 
intelligence. These documents were rapidly transferred by the 
brethren from one convent to another. For many centuries, the 
monks were better informed than almost any other persons of 
what was transpiring throughout Europe and Asia. . 

The warriors were men of muscle only, not of cultivated 
mind. Intelligence is always a power: hence the Church 
rapidly gained ascendency over the State, and the mitred bish- 
op took the precedence of the helmed warrior. The bishops, or 
pastors, of the large churches in the metropolitan cities, iiad 
then, as now, distinction above the rural dergy. Constanti- 
nople, outstripping decaying Rome, had become the chief city 
of the world in population and splendor. Rome, proud of her 
ancient renown, regarded her young rival very much as an old, 
aristocratic, decaying family regards some successful adventurer 
of lowly birth who has newly become rich. 

There was strong rivalry between the bishops of these two 



388 history op cnmsTiANiTt 

ren Dwned cities, eacli straggling for the pre-eminence. The 
Bishop of Rome gradually assumed the title of Papa, or Pope. 
Indeed, in the first century, all the bishops in the East were 
entitled Pope, or Father. Subsequently, in the fifth century, 
the Bishop of Constantinople took the title of Patriarch. The 
strife eventuated in a division between the Greek and Roman 
churches. The Pope at Rome took the Western churches, and 
the Patriarch at Constantinople the Eastern. Swaying the 
sceptre of spiritual power, both of these ecclesiastics gradually 
grasped temporal power also. Christianity was virtually ban- 
ished from the Church, though there were here and there 
devoted pastors ; and thousands of Christians, some of them 
even in the highest walks of life, were, with prayers and tears, 
struggling, through the almost universal corruption, in the 
path to heaven. Both the Grecian and the Roman hierarchies 
became mainly but ambitious political organizations, minister- 
ing to pride and luxury and splendor. There were some good 
popes, as there have been good kings ; and many bad popes, as 
there have been bad kings. 

It was near the close of the sixth century that Mohammed 
commenced his marvellous career. Whether this extraordinary 
man were a self-deceived enthusiast, or a designing impostor, 
is a question which will probably ever be discussed, and never 
settled. 

Born of wealthy parents in the city of Mecca, in the interior 
of Arabia, about the year 569, he, when a lad of but thirteen 
years of age, travelled to Syria on a commercial expedition. 
Here he was entertained in one of the Christian monasteries, — 
almost the only resort of travellers in those days. One of the 
fathers, perceiving in him indications of genius, paid him 
marked attention, and probably made strenuous exertions to 
secure his conversion, not only to Christianity, but to the 
superstitious observances which had grown up around the pure 
religion of Jesus. 

All great men are of a pensive temperament : the tremendous 
mystery of human life oppresses them. Young Mohammed 
was thoughtful, contemplative, with a tinge of melancholy per- 



CENTURIES OF WAR AND WOE. 389 

vading his whole character. It is evident that ne was much 
impressed by the scenes which he had witnessed and the in- 
structions he had received in the convent; for he* formed the 
habit of retiring every year to the Cave of Hera, about three 
miles from Mecca. Here, in a natural cloister, he annually 
spent a month in solitude, meditation, and prayer. 

In the seclusion and silence of these hours he conceived 
and matured his plan for the establishment of a new religion. 
There were still remnants of the ancient idolatry all around 
him : and, in his view, idolatry had crept into the Christian 
Church ; for statues of the saints filled the niches of the great 
cathedrals, and image-worship in churches and convents had 
become almost universal. The reflections of Mohammed upon 
this subject must have been profound and long-continued; for 
he was forty years of age before he commenced active operations 
in that enterprise which has given him world-wide renown. 

Mohammed affirmed, that, in his cave, he held interviews with 
the angel Gabriel, who had inspired him, as the apostles were 
inspired, to proclaim a new and purer religion. He assumed 
that the Jewish religion was from God, but that its end was 
accomplished ; that Christianity was true, a divine revelation, 
but that, having fulfilled the purpose for which it was pro- 
claimed, it was now also to pass away, and give place to a 
third and final revelation, which God had revealed to Moham- 
med, his prophet, and which, as the perfection of divine wisdom, 
was to endure forever. 

The first disciple he gained was his wife ; then some of his 
relatives and a few neighbors avowed their faith in his divine 
mission. But progress was very slow. At the close of ten 
years of tireless perseverance, but very few could be counted 
among his followers. Then, quite suddenly, converts began to 
multiply ; and he gave them a military organization, boldly 
declaring that he was divinely empowered to put any one to 
death who should reject his claims, and that the property of 
such unbelievers was to be divided among the faithful. The 
world was just in the situation for a fanatic band of desperate 
marauders successfully to commence their march. The pros* 



390 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

pect of booty brought thousands of the vagabonds of Asia to 
his standard. His first exploit was the capture of a rich 
caravan, which greatly elated and enriched his followers, and 
extended his fame. At length, he encountered governmental 
resistance. His little army was utterly routed ; and Moham- 
med fled, wounded and bleeding, from the field. Though the 
repulse seemed for a short time to shake the faith of his follow- 
ers, he soon rallied them by the assurance that it was in conse- 
quence of their sins that God had given them this transient 
reverse, but that God had promised that all who were slain 
in his battles should be immediately translated to a paradise 
of exquisite and eternal bliss. 

Crowds flocked to his camp. New battles were fought, and 
victories won. His disciples became rich and exultant. His 
religion, consisting mainly of outward forms, was as easy of 
practice as any part of the military drill. He was soon at the 
head of ten thousand soldiers inspired with all the ferocity which 
religious fanaticism could engender. The number rapidly in- 
creased to thirty thousand. No power could be brought into the 
field to resist him. Nearly all Arabia, ignorant, religionless, 
and greedy of plunder, enlisted under a banner which brought 
its followers fame, adventure, and wealth. It is no longer to 
be wondered at that Mohammed by these means eventually 
found himself at the head of a hundred and fifty thousand 
of the fiercest warriors earth had ever known. To the pagans, 
one religion was as good as another. To exchange religions 
was like exchanging garments. It was comparatively easy to 
make proselytes among a barbarian people who had no settled 
convictions of truth, and to whom there could be offered the 
most attractive of temporal as well as eternal rewards. 

Gibbon gives the following account of the personal appear- 
ance and intellectual endowments of this wonderful man : — 

" According to the traditions of his companions, Mohammed 
was distinguished by the beauty of his person. Before he spoke, 
the orator engaged on his side the affections of a public or a 
private audience: they applauded his commanding presence, 
his majestic aspect, his piercing eye, his gracious smile, his 






CENTURIES OF WAR AND WOE. 391 

flowing beard, his countenance that painted every sensation of 
the soul, and his gestures that enforced each expression of the 
tongue. 

" In the familiar offices of life, he scrupulously adhered to the 
grave and ceremonious politeness of his country, His respect- 
ful attention to the rich and powerful was dignified by his con- 
descension and affability to the poorest citizens of Mecca. The 
frankness of his manners concealed the artifice of his views ; 
and the habits of courtesy were imputed to personal friendship 
or universal benevolence. His memory was capacious and re- 
tentive, his wit easy and social, his imagination sublime, his 
judgment clear, rapid, and decisive. 

" He possessed the courage both of thought and action ; and, 
although his designs might gradually expand with his success, 
the first idea he entertained of his divine mission beers the 
stamp of an original and superior genius. The son of Abdallah 
was educated in the bosom of the noblest race, in the use of the 
purest dialect; and the fluency of his speech was corrected and 
enhanced by the practice of discreet and seasonable silence. 
With these powers of eloquence, Mohammed was an illiterate 
barbarian. His youth had never been instructed in the arts of 
reading and writing. The common ignorance exempted him 
from ehame and reproach ; but he was reduced to a narrow circle 
of existence, and deprived of those faithful mirrors which reflect 
to our mind the minds of sages and heroes." 

Mohammed, like Emanuel Swedenborg, accepted both the 
Old and New Testament as of divine origin. He professed the 
most profound respect for both Moses and Jesus Christ as pro- 
phets sent from God. " Verily Christ Jesus," writes Moham- 
med, "the son of Mary, is the Apostle of God, and his Word, 
which he conveyed unto Mary, and a Spirit proceeding from 
him, honorable in this world and in the world to come, and one 
of those who approach near to the presence of God." 1 

Our Saviour had promised, that, after his departure from this 
world, he would send the Paraclete, or Holy Ghost, as a guide 
and comforter to his disciples. " But when the Comforter is 

1 Koran, iii. 40. 



392 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, the Spirit 
of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of 
me." x Mohammed assumed that he was this divinely-commis- 
sioned Comforter. The Koran was produced in fragments to 
meet emergencies ; and it was not until two years after the 
death of Mohammed that these fragments were collected in a 
single volume. This Koran is one of the most stupid of books, 
full of incoherent rhapsody and turgid declamation, from which 
it is di£:cult to extract a sentiment or an idea. Very few men 
in Christendom have found patience to read it. 

MoJiammed at first imposed upon his disciples the daily obli- 
gation of fifty prayers. Finding this too onerous to be borne, 
he diminished the number to five, which were to be performed 
daily, regardless of any engagements or any surroundings. 
These ecasons of prayer were at daybreak, at noon, in the 
middle of the afternoon, in the evening, and at the first watch 
of the night. His precepts of morality were drawn from 
the Old and New Testaments. Friday was appointed as the 
Mohammedan sabbath, and vigorous fasts were enforced. All 
intoxicating drinks were positively interdicted. The Mussul- 
man was enjoined to consecrate one-tenth of his income to char- 
itable purposes. The doctrines of the resurrection and the 
final judgment were maintained. 

" The sword," says Mohammed, " is the key of heaven and 
of hell. A drop of blood shed in the cause of God, or a night 
spent in arms, is of more avail than two months of fasting 
or prayer. Whoever falls in battle, his sins are forgiven. At 
the day of judgment his wounds shall be resplendent as ver- 
milion, and odoriferous as musk; and the loss of his limbs 
shall be supplied with the wings of angels and cherubim." 

This remarkable man died on the 7th of June, 632. His 
character was by no means blameless when judged by the 
standard of Christianity. Whenever he % wished to indulge in 
any crime, he could easily find a fresh revelation authorizing 
him to do so. Major Price, after the most careful examination 
of documentary evidence, speaks as follows of his death : — 

1 John xv. 26. 



CENTUBIES OF WAR AND WOE. 393 

" In tracing the circumstances of Mohammed's sickness, we 
look in vain for any proofs of that meek and heroic firmness 
which might be expected to dignify and embellish the last 
moments of the apostle of God. On some occasions he betrayed 
such want of fortitude, such marks of childish impatience, as 
are in general to be found in men only of the most ordinary 
stamp; and such as extorted from his wife Ayesha, in particu- 
lar, the sarcastic remark, that, in herself or any of her family, 
a similar demeanor would long since have incurred his severe 
displeasure. He said that the acuteness and violence of his 
sufferings were necessarily in the proportion of those honors 
with which it had ever pleased the hand of Omnipotence to 
distinguish its peculiar favorites." 1 

Immediately after the death of Mohammed, his disciples 
pushed their conquests with amazing energy. In the course of 
a few centuries, they overran all of Egypt and of Asia Minor, 
and established the most stern and unrelenting despotism earth 
has ever known. Their military organization and prowess were 
such, that they could bring into the field a more powerful army 
than any other nation. 

They crossed the Bosphorus into Europe, and stormed Chris- 
tian Constantinople with six hundred vessels of war and an 
army of three hundred thousand troops. Sixty thousand of 
the inhabitants of Constantinople were massacred in cold blood. 
The Christian maidens were dragged shrieking into the Mos- 
lem harems. The boys of tender age were compelled, under 
the blows ol the scourge and of the cimeter, to adopt the religion 
of the Prophet, and to enlist under his banner. Thus the 
whole Eastern or Greek empire was soon blotted out. The 
crescent of Mohammed supplanted the cross of Christ over all 
the towers of the imperial city. The head of the Christian 
was crushed by the heel of the Turk. 

The conqueror, assuming the title of Mohammed II., pre- 
pared to invade Italy. It was his boast that he would feed his 
horse from the altar of St. Peter's, in Rome. He crossed the 
Adriatic, took Otranto, and was in the onward career of vic- 

1 Price, vol. i. p. 13. 



394 



HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 



tory, with, every prospect of annexing Italy to the Mohamme- 
dan empire, when he died. There was then a short respite for 
imperilled Christendom. But soon the flood of Mohammedan 
invasion rolled up the Danube in surges of flame and blood. 
Year after year, and generation after generation, the valley of 
this majestic stream was but a constant battle-field, where Chris- 
tian and Moslem grappled each other in the death-struggle. 

One of these marches up the Danube is worthy of more 
minute record. It was leafy June : luxuriant foliage and gor- 
geous flowers decorated the banks of the river with loveliness 
which attracted the admiration even of semi-barbarian eyes. 
The turbulent host, counting within its ranks two hundred and 
fifty thousand veteran warriors, for many days sauntered joy- 
ously along, encountering no foe. War seemed but the pastime 
of a festival-day. Banners floated gayly in the breeze ; music 
enlivened the march. Arabian chargers pranced proudly 
beneath their riders, glittering in Oriental gorgeousness of cos- 
tume. A fleet of gayly-decorated barges filled the stream, im- 
pelled by sails when the wind favored, and urged by rowers 
when the winds were adverse. 

Each night, upon some smooth expanse of the river's banks, 
the white tents of the invaders were spread, and a city of nearly 
two hundred thousand inhabitants rose as by magic, with its 
grassy streets and squares, its busy population, its trumpet- 
peals from martial bands, and its bannered magnificence blaz- 
ing in all the regalia of war. Like a fairy vision the city rose 
in the rays of the declining sun ; and like a vision it disap- 
peared in the early dawn of the morning, and the mighty host 
moved on. 

But the black day came. The Turks had ascended the £ver 
about a hundred and fifty miles, when they came to a small 
island called Zigeth. It was strongly fortified, and commanded 
both banks of the stream. Not another mile could the Mos- 
lems advance till this fortress was battered down. Zrini, the 
heroic Christian commander, and his whole garrison of six 
thousand men, took an oath that they would surrender the post 
only with their lives. 



CENTURIES OF WAR AND WOE. 395 

Day and night, week after week, the assault continued un- 
intermitted. The besieged, with guns in battery to sweep all 
approaches, mowed down their assailants with awful carnage ; 
but bastion after bastion was crumbled by the tremendous can- 
nonade of the Moslems : the walls of solid masonry were bat- 
tered down till they presented but a shapeless pile of rocks. 
The Turks, reckless of life, like swarming bees swept over the 
smouldering ruins. They had apparently cut down every inmate 
of the fort ; and, with shouts of victory, were raising the cres- 
cent over the blackened and blood-stained rocks, when there 
was an earthquake roar, and an explosion almost as appalling 
as the thunders of the archangel's trump. 

Zrini had fired the subterranean vaults containing thousands 
of kegs of powder. The whole citadel — men, horses, rocks, arjd 
artillery — was thrown into the air, and fell a commingled mass 
of ruin, fire, and blood. The Turks, having lost their leader 
and a large part of their army, retreated, exhausted and bleed- 
ing, but only to gather strength to renew the strife. 

Thus year after year these Moslem assaults were continued. 
Such were the measures the Turks used to convert Europe to 
Mohammedanism ; such were the persuasions urged by the 
missionaries of the Koran. Shortly after this, the banners of 
the advance-guard of the Turkish army were seen even from the 
steeples of Vienna : the majestic host invested the city on all 
sides. 

The renowned John Zobieski, King of Poland, came to th9 
rescue with sixty thousand men. Uniting with the German 
troops, the combined army fell upon the invaders with almost 
frenzied courage, utterly routed them, and drove them in wild 
disorder back to Belgrade. Still, through years of blood and woe, 
these Moslem assaults were continued. The conquering armies 
of the Prophet took all of Asia, Egypt, Africa, and Greece. They 
crossed the Straits of Gibraltar from Africa into Spain, overran 
the whole Spanish Peninsula, and hung like a black cloud upon 
the northern cliffs of the Pyrenees, threatening the provinces 
of France. They swept both banks of the Danube to the walls 
of Vienna. The Austrian royal family fled at midnight. It 



396 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

seemed inevitable that all Europe was to be overran by the 
Moslems; and that all Christendom was to be cut down "beneath 
their bloody cimeters. 

This conflict of Mohammedanism against Christianity con- 
tinued for five centuries. At one time, the Austrian ambas- 
sador at Constantinople wrote to the Emperor Ferdinand in 
Vienna, — 

"When I compare the power of the Turks with our own, 
the consideration tills me with dismay. I see not how we can 
resist the destruction which awaits us. They possess great 
wealth, strength unbroken, a perfect knowledge of the arts 
of war, patience, union, order, frugality, and a constant state 
of preparation. 

"On our side are exhausted finances and universal luxury. 
Our national spirit is broken by mutinous soldiers, mercenary 
officers, licentiousness, intemperance, and a total contempt of 
military discipline. Is it possible to doubt how sue! an un- 
equal conflict must terminate ? The all-conquering Mussul- 
mans will soon rush with undivided strength, and overwhelm 
all Europe as well as Germany." 

Such was the career and the final menaces of Mohammedan- 
ism. But the Church is safe : God interposed by his resist- 
less providences. Mohammedanism, everywhere on the wane, 
exists now only through the toleration of the Christian powers : 
it is ere long to be buried in the same grave in which the pa- 
ganism of Greece and E-ome lies mouldering in the dust. One 
foe after another Satan has been marshalling against Chris- 
tianity ; but ever, though sometimes after a strife truly terrific, 
Christianity has come off the victor. Eighteen centuries 
have rolled away since the death of Christ ; but never was 
Christianity so vigorous and efficient a power in the world as 
now. 

Mohammed himself ever remembered the kindness he had 
received in the Syrian convent. He left it as one of the in- 
junctions of the Koran, — 

" Eespect all religious persons who live in hermitages or 
convents, and spare their edifices ; but, should you meet othei 



CENTURIES OF WAU AND WOE. 39? 

Unbelievers in the Prophet, be sure you cleave their skulls un- 
less they embrace the true faith." 

The capture of Alexandria by the Mohammedans is one of 
the most renowned events, and apparently one of the greatest 
calamities, of past ages. The magnificent city, the capital of 
Egypt, possessed almost fabulous wealth. It contained four 
thousand palaces, five thousand baths, and four hundred thea- 
tres. Its library surpassed all others in the world in the num- 
ber and value of its manuscripts. The Moslem general who 
had captured the city wrote to his superior at Bagdad, inquir- 
ing what was to be d.or.e with the library. The bigot returned 
the reply, — " 

"Either what those books contain is in the Koran, or it is 
not. If their contents are in the Koran, the books are useless : 
if they are not, the books are false and wicked. Burn them." 

The whole priceless treasure, containing the annals of innny 
past centuries, was committed to the names. The irreparable 
loss Christendom will ever mourn. 

Nations are not born, and do not die, in a day. During sev- 
eral centuries, Mohammedanism was rising to its zenit.i of 
power, until it vied with ancient Rome in the extent of its 
territory, the invincibility of its legions, and the enormity of 
its luxury and corruption. 

The seventh century was, perhaps, the darkest and the most 
hopeless, so far as the prospects of humanity were concerned, 
of any since the birth of Christ. When the eighth century 
dawned, several hundred years of war, anarchy, and blood, had 
lingered away since the breaking-up of the Roman empire. 
The people, weary of anarchy and crushed with woe, were glad 
to make any surrender of personal liberty for the sake of secu- 
rity. Pern ales sought refuge in nunneries, and timid men in 
monasteries : bold barons built their impregnable castles on 
the cliffs ; and defenceless peasants clustered around these mas- 
sive fortresses of rock for protection as the sheep gather around 
the watch-dog. 

The baron, with his fierce retainers armed to the teeth, was 
ever ready to do battle, The serf purchased a home and safety 



398 BISTORT OF CBRISTIAN1TT. 

by toiling with his wife and children, like cattle in the field, 
to support his lord and his armed warriors. Thus feudalism 
was the child of necessity : it was the natural outgrowth of 
barbarous times. The ruins of these old feudal castles are 
scattered profusely over the hillsides and along the romantic 
streams of Europe. As the tourist now glides in the steamer 
over the water of the beautiful Bhine, where the "castled crag 
of Drachenfels " frowns down upon the scene of solitude and 
beauty, and sees 

" On yon bold brow a lordly tower, 
In that soft vale a lady's bower, 
In yonder meadow, far away, 
The turrets of a cloister gray/' 

creative imagination leaps back over the ages which are gone, 
repairs the ruins, digs out the moat, suspends the portcullis, 
stores the dungeon, and peoples the battlemented towers with 
armed defenders. Again the winding of the bugle echoes over 
the hills and the valleys, warning the serfs of approaching 
dai ger. We see the rush of the frightened peasants in at the 
massive portals ; we hear the clatter of iron hoofs, the defiant 
challenge pealing from the trumpet : the eye is dazzled with 
the vision of waving plumes and gilded banners as steel-clad 
knights sweep by like a whirlwind. 

Breathless we gaze, in fancy, upon the attack and the de- 
fence ; listen to the cry of onset, and to the resounding blows 
upon helmet and cuirass. Heroic courage, chivalric adventure, 
invest the crumbling stones with life. Such was life in this 
sad world ten centuries ago. 

But, through all these tumults, the Church of Christ, with 
many mingling imperfections, was rising to be the ruling power 
on earth. In seasons of anarchy, the community is ever ready 
to cast itself for protection into the arms of dictatorial power. 
The Church, imperilled, felt its need of a dictator; and the 
Bishop of Borne, by almost unanimous consent, became its 
recognized head. The Moslem empire had swept over all the 
]East ; trampling Eastern Christians in the dust. The few dis- 



CENTURIES OF WAR AND WOE. 899 

ciples of Jesus who in those regions were permitted to live 
were exposed to the most humiliating oppressions and insults. 

It was in the year 732 that Charles Martel met the Moslem 
host near Tours, in France, to fight the battle which apparently 
was to decide the fate of Europe. Christianity and Moham- 
medanism met on that field in their greatest strength. The 
battle which ensued was one of the most terrific which earth 
has ever known. Victory followed the banner of the cross. 
The annalists of those days declare that over three hundred 
thousand Moslems bit the dust upon that bloody field: the 
remnant, in a series of desperate conflicts, were driven pell- 
mell over the Pyrenees, across the whole breadth of Spain, and 
over the Straits of Gibraltar into Africa. 

As we traverse these weary years in their dull monotony of 
woe, we occasionally come to some event over which we are 
constrained to pause and ponder. Such an event was the rise 
of Charlemagne, towards the close of the eighth century. His 
name has reverberated through the corridors of history until the 
present day. By his genius, and the power of his armies, he 
brought two-thirds of all Europe under his sceptre. He created 
an empire almost rivalling that of the Caesars. Seated in his 
palace at Aix la Chapelle, he issued his orders, which scores of 
nations obeyed. Dukes, princes, counts, became his subordi- 
nate officers, whose powers were limited according to his will. 

At the death of Charlemagne, near the close of the eighth 
century, his empire broke to pieces in large fragments. Europe 
emerged from the wreck, organized essentially as now. The 
overthrow of the ancient Roman empire was like a mountain 
crumbling down into sand. The then known world became 
but a vast arena for the conflict of petty barbarous tribes, ever 
surging to and fro. The demolition of the empire of Charle- 
magne was like the breaking-up of a majestic iceberg into 
a number of huge islands, each floating imperially over the 
waves, defying alike gales and billows. The spiritual empire 
of the Papacy had kept pace with the secular empire of Charle- 
magne : indeed, the Bishop of Pome swayed a sceptre before 
whose power e' T en Charlemagne himself was compelled to bow. 



400 XlIStORY OF CtiniSTIANITt. 

As a temporal ruler, Charlemagne had no rival in Europe. 
The antechamber of this great European conqueror was filled 
with suppliant kings. Though unlearned himself, he did all in 
his power to encourage learning throughout his realms: He 
ordered every monastery to maintain a school; he encouraged 
manufactures and agriculture ; and with a strong arm repressed 
violence, that all branches of industry might be secure of a 
reward. It was during his reign that the first bell was cast by 
the monk Tancho. The emperor was so much pleased with its 
sweet and solemn tones, that he ordered it to be placed on his 
chapel as the call to prayer. Hence the origin of church-bells. 

Until nearly the ninth century, the Island of Great Britain 
was essentially a barbaric land, filled with savage, warring 
tribes. Each district had its petty clans of fierce warriors, ar- 
rayed against each other. But again there bursts upon Europe 
one of those appalling irruptions of barbarians from the North 
which seems so weird-like and supernatural. 

One day, Charlemagne with a friend was standing upon a 
cliff, looking out upon the sea, when he saw quite a fleet of 
galleys passing by. " They are traders, probably," said his com- 
panion! "No," replied Charlemagne sadly : "they are Norman 
pirates. I know them. / do not fear them ; but, when I am 
gone, they will ravage Europe." 

These were the fierce men who enslaved the Saxons of Britain, 
and put brass collars £ round their necks. Descending from the 
islands of the Baltic and the mainlands of Denmark and Nor- 
way in their war-ships, infuriated by a fanatic faith which 
regarded mercy as sin, these ferocious warriors, hardy as polar 
bears, and agile as wolves, penetrated every bay, river, and 
creek, sweeping all opposition before them. Devastation, car- 
nage, and slavery followed in their train. 

The monasteries had gradually degenerated into institutions 
of indolence .and sensuality. The Normans assailed the in- 
mates of these gloomy retreats with the most relentless cruelty. 
They surrounded with their armed bands these cloistered walls, 
and, barring the monks within, applied the torch, and danced 
and sang as the vast pile and all its contents were wrapped in 



CENTURIES OF WAR AND WOE. 401 

flames. They hated a religion which taught (to them the ab- 
surd doctrine) that man was the brother of his fellow-man j 
that the strong should protect, and not oppress, the weak; that 
we should forgive our enemies, and treat kindly those who in- 
jure us. Like incarnate fiends, they took special pleasure in 
putting to death, through every form of torture, the teachers of 
a religion so antagonistic to their depraved natures. 

Such was the condition of the world at the commencement 
of the tenth century. Joyless generations came and passed 
away, and life upon this sin-stricken globe could have been 
only a burden. From this sketch, necessarily exceedingly brief, 
it will be seen that man has ever been the most bitter foe of 
his brother-man. Nearly all the woes of earth are now, and 
ever have been, caused by sin. What an awful tragedy has the 
history of this globe been ! 

Almost with anguish, the thoughtful and benevolent mind 
inquires, "Is there to be no end to this? Is humanity forever 
to be plunged into the abyss of crime and woe ? " 

It would seem that it must be manifest to every candid mind 
that there can be no possible remedy but in the religion of 
Jesus Christ. Love God, your Father; love man, your brother: 
these are the fundamental principles of the gospel. Every 
one must admit that the universal adoption of these principles 
would sweep away from earth nearly all its sorrows. Sin and 
holiness in this world are struggling for the supremacy: it 
is a fearful conflict. Every individual- is on the one side or the 
other. Some are more, and some are less zealous. But there 
is no neutrality : he that is not for Christ is against him. 

Is there not an influence coming down to us through these 
long centuries of woe potent enough to induce each one to 
declare, " As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord " ? 
Accept the religion of Jesus ; live in accordance with its teach- 
ings : then you will do all in your power to arrest the woes 
of humanity ; and, when Death with his summons shall come, 
he will present you a passport which will secure your entrance 
at the golden gate which opens to the paradise of Grod. 



CHAPTEJl XXL 



THE DAHK ACES. 



The Anticipated Second Coming of Christ. — State of the Wor'd in Ihe Teeth 
Century. — Enduring Architecture. — Power of tho Papacy. — Vitality cf the 
Christian Religion.— The Pope and the Patriarch.— Intolerance of Uildebrand. 
— Humiliation of the Empero.r Henry IV. — Farewell Letter of Monomaque. — 
The Crusades. — Vladimir of Russia. — His Introduction of Christianity to 
his Ilealras. — Marriage with the Christian Princess Anne. — Extirpation of 
Paganism. — The Baptism. — The Spiritual Conversion of Vladimir 



^^ 




^HEEE had gradually arisen an a'.most universal 
Jo impression in the Church, that, in just a thou- 
sand years after the advent of Christ, the world 
x^«*»-^ was to come to an end. Notwithstanding the 
\^l ^yxi t emphatic declaration of Jesus, that not even the 
"** Jr^t<t an o G ^ s * n heaven know the period of his second 
\£s coming, through all the ages of the Church indi- 
viduals have been appearing who have fixed upon a particular 
year when Christ was to come in clouds of glory. 

The year of our Lord 999 was one of very solemn import. 
There was a deep-seated impression throughout all Christen- 
dom that it was to be the last year of time ; and, indeed, all the 
signs in the heavens above and on the earth beneath indicated 
that event. There was almost universal anarchy, — no law, no 
government, no safet}^, anywhere. There were wars, and rumors 
of wars. Sin abounded. There were awful famines, followed 
by the fearful train of pestilence and death. The land was left 
untilied. There was no motive to plant when the harvest could 
never be gathered. The houses were left to fall into decay. 
403 



TUB BARK AGES. 403 

Why make improvements, when in one short month they might 
be swallowed up in a general conflagration? 

It is an almost inexplicable peculiarity of human wicked- 
ness, that danger and death are often the most intense incen- 
tives to reckless sin. While Christians were watching and 
prayir.g for the coming of the Saviour to bring to a triumphal 
close this fearful tragedy of earth and time, the godless sur- 
rendered themselves to all excesses, and shouted, " Let us eat 
and drink ; for to-morrow we die ! M 

The condition of society became quite unendurable. Rob- 
bers frequented every wood: in strong bands they ravaged 
villages, and even walled towns. As all were consuming, and 
few were producing, provisions soon disappeared. Despair 
gave loose to every passion. In many places the famine was 
so severe, that, when even rats and mice could no longer be 
procured, human flesh was sold in the markets : women and 
children were actually killed and roasted. 

But, while many were thus stimulated to awful depravity, 
others, inspired by Christian principle, were impelled to prayer, 
and to every exercise of devotion which those dark days taught 
them could be acceptable to God. Kings, in several cases, laid 
aside their crowns, and, as humble monks, entered the monas- 
teries, performing all the most onerous and humiliating duties 
of midnight vigils, fastings, penances, and- prayers. 

Henry, the Emperor of Germany, entered the Abbey of St 
Vanne as a monk. The holy father in charge, who was truly 
a good man, enlightened and conscientious, received the empe- 
ror reluctantly. After much remonstrance, he, however, admin- 
istered the oath b}*- which the monarch vowed implicit obedience 
to the authority of his spiritual superior. 

"Sire," said this good monk to the emperor, "you are no\? 
under my orders : 3-ou have taken a solemn oath to obey me. 
I command you to retire immediately from the convent, and tc 
resume the sceptre. Fulfil the duties of the kingly state tc 
which God lias called you. Go forth a monk of the Abbey of 
St. Valine ; but resume your responsibilities as Emperos of 
German v," 



404 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The emperor obeyed wi*h simplicity of trust, and nobility 
of character, which have commanded the respect of all subse- 
quent ages. 

Robert, King of France, son of the illustrious Hugh. Capet, 
entered the Abbey of St. Denis. Here he became one of the 
choir of the church, singing hymns and psalms of his own 
composition. Many of the nobles emancipated their slaves, 
and bestowed large sums in charity, — benevolence, indeed, 
which did not, perhaps, require a large exercise of self-denial, if 
sincere in their belief that the fires were just ready to burst 
out which were to wrap the world in flames. 

As the year 999 drew near its end, men almost held their 
breath to watch the result. For a whole generation, all the 
pulpits of Christendom had been ringing with the text, — 

" And he laid hold on the dragon, that old serpent, which 
is the Devil and Satan, and bound him a thousand years, and 
cast him into the bottomless pit, and shut him up, and set a 
seal upon him, that he should deceive the nations no more; 
and, after that, he must be loosed a little season." l 

But the dawn of the eleventh century rose, and all things 
continued as they were from the beginning of the creation. 
Christians, finding that the world was not coming to an end, 
rallied for more energetic effort to make the world better. All 
Christendom combined in the crusades to arrest the progress 
of Mohammedanism, and to reclaim the Holy Land from 
Mohammedan sway. The churches were repaired. Stately 
cathedrals rose, — those massive piles of imposing architecture 
which are still the pride of Europe. 

The impression that the world was to be stable for some 
centuries longer led to the projection of buildings on the most 
gigantic scale and of the most durable materials. Archi- 
tecture became a science which enlisted the energies of the 
ablest minds ; and here originated that Gothic architecture 
so much admired even at the present day. The foundations 
of these time-defying edifices were broad and deep ; the walls 
pf immense thickness ; the roofs steep, effectually to shed rain 



TEE DARK AGES. 405 

and snow; the towers square, buttressed to sustain the church, 
and also to afford means, then so necessary, of military de- 
fence. 

The castle of the noble rose by the same impulse which 
reared such majestic sacred edifices. Thus Melrose and Ken- 
£] worth, Heidelberg and Drachenfels, came into being. 

In France alone, at the beginning of the eleventh century, 
there were a thousand four hundred and thirty-four monas* 
teries. Poverty was universal. The cottages of the peasants 
were mere hovels, without windows, damp and airless, — 
wretched kennels in which the joyless inmates crept to sleep. 
By the side of these abodes of want and woe the church rose 
in palatial splendor, with its massive walls, its majestic spire, 
its spacious aisles, and its statuary and paintings, which charmed 
the docile and unlettered multitude. The whole population 
of the village could assemble beneath its vaulted ceiling. It 
was the poor man's palace : he felt that it belonged to him. 
There he received his bride. In the churchyard he laid his 
dead. The church-bell rang merrily on festal-days, and tolled 
sadly when sorrow crushed. Life's burden weighed heavily on 
all hearts. To the poor, unlettered, ignorant peasant, the 
church was every thing : its religious pageants pleased his eye ; 
the church-door was ever open for his devotions ; the sanctu- 
ary was his refuge in danger ; its massive grandeur rilled his 
heart with pride ; its gilded shows and stately ceremonies 
took the place of amusements ; the officiating priests and 
bishops presented to his reverential eyes an aspect almost 
divine. 

We see the remains of this deep reverence in the attach- 
ment to their forms of religion of nearly all the peasantry of 
Catholic Europe at the present day. The Church, with its 
imposing ceremonies, hallowed to them by all the associations 
of childhood and by the traditions of past generations, still 
exerts over them a power which seems almost miraculous. 

The wonderful vitality which there is in the Church of 
Christ, and the amazing influence which the teachings of Jesus 
exert over the human mind, are in nothing more .remarkable 



468 riisronr of cnxisTiAxitt 

than in the stability with which Christianity and its doctrines 
survive all the ordinary changes of time. Dynasties rise and 
fall like ocean-waves, leaving no perceptible influence behind 
them ; but Christianity rides over all these storms of time 
with immortal life. The Roman empire crumbles to dust; 
the Eastern and W estern empires moulder away ; the Gothic 
kingdoms appear, and vanish like a vision of the night; the 
"Vandals and the Huns, the Ostrogoths and the Normans, flit 
across the scene, caeh with their brief span of life. 

Yet Christianity, like, the sun straggling through the clouds 
of a stormy day, calmty, steadily, surely, continues on its course. 
Though a storm-cloud may transiently obscure its brightness, 
nothing can impede its onward progress; and, at the present 
day, Christian it}', triumphant over all the conflicts of centuries, 
shines brighter, clearer, with more world-wide healing in its 
beams, than ever before. 

The Bishop of Home had become the recognized head of the 
Western Church. Wielding both temporal and spiritual power, 
the pope towered in dignity above all the monarchs of Europe. 
Towards the close of the eleventh century, Hildebrand, with 
the title of Gregory VII., occupied the pontifical chair. Henry 
IV., Emperor of Germany, claimed the right of appointing 
bishops in his own realms. The pope haughtily summoned 
the emperoi immediately to repair to his presence in Home, 
and answer for his conduct. Henry, indignant at such an 
insult, issued a decree declaring Gregory VII. no longer worthy 
of -being regarded as pope. 

In retaliation, the exasperated pontiff excommunicated the 
emperor, deposing him from his throne, and prohibiting his 
subjects, under pain of eternal damnation, from supporting 
the emperor, or from ministering in any way to his wants. 
The superstitious people, believing that the pope had entire 
power to send them all to hell, in their terror simultaneously 
and universally abandoned the emperor. No servant dared to 
engage in his employ ; no soldier dared to serve under his ban- 
ner. The emperor found himself in an hour utterly crushed 
and helpless. The pope summoned a congress, and appointed 
another emperor in the place of his deposed victim. 



THE DAIiK AGES. 407 

Henry, finding himself thus overwhelmed bey-owl all possi- 
bility of resistance, in dismay and despair crossed the Alps in 
the dead of winter to throw himself at the feet of the offended 
pontiff, and implore forgiveness. Gregory VII. was then at 
the Castle of Canossa, in Tuscany. For three days, in mid- 
winter, the abject monarch stood a suppliant at the gate of tho 
castle before he could be admitted. Barefoot, bareheaded, and 
clothed in a. woollen shirt, he was compelled thus to wait, day 
after da}*, that all might witness his abject humiliation. At 
length, the haughty pontiff consented to grant absolution to 
the humiliated and penitent emperor. 

The extravagance of the claims of Ilildebrand seem to 
approach insanity. He published a collection of maxims, 
which is still extant. Among them are the following, which 
evince his spirit, and the arrogance of the papacy at that 
day : — 

" There is but one name in the vrorl.l ; and that is the pope's. 
All princes ought to kiss his feet. He alone can nominate or 
displace bishops, or dissolve councils. Nobody can judge him. 
He has never erred, and never shall err in time to come. Ho 
can depose princes, and release subjects from their oaths of 
fidelity." 

All the mouarchs of Europe sustained these assumptions of 
the pope; for, by sustaining them, they easily held their sub- 
jects under perfect control. Nothing can be conceived more 
awful than was then the idea of excommunication to the popu- 
lar mind. It exposed one to almost all possible misery in this 
world, and to the eternal flames of hell in the next. 

One becomes weary of the recital of the crimes and woes of 
those days. There is, however, one truth which stands forth 
prominent from every page of history: it is, that in the reli- 
gion of Jesus alone can be found the remedy for the ills of 
earth; it is the democracy of the gospel, the recognition of 
the brotherhood of man, where only is to be found hope for the 
world. Forms of government arc of little avail so long as the 
men who wield those forms are selfish and depraved. Gov- 
ernments will become better only so last as the men who admin- 
ister them become better. 



408 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

It is one of the signal developments of human depravity 
that men will reject and oppose the religion of Jesus because 
bad men, assuming the Christian name, ignore, and trample 
beneath their feet, all the teachings of the gospel. Christianity- 
advocates every thing that is lovely and of good report, urging 
all "to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with 
God; " to visit the widow and fatherless in their affliction, and 
to keep himself unspotted from the world ; " while at the same 
time it denounces, under penalty of the divine displeasure, every 
act which is not consistent with love to God and love to man. 

Notwithstanding papal pride and corruption, the spirit of 
Christ, in those dark ages, was beautifully developed in thou- 
sands of hearts, among the lofty as well as among the lowly. 
There is a great deal of false religion now, a great deal of ritu- 
alistic pomp and of empty profession. It was so then. Still, 
everywhere, then as now, could be seen the most attractive 
evidences of the power of true religion. Devoted missionaries 
had penetrated the most remote and savage- wilds ; and not a 
few who wore regal crowns and ducal coronets were numbered 
among the disciples of Jesus. 

On the 19th of May, 1126, Monomaque, one of the most 
renowned of the early sovereigns of semi-barbaric Eussia, died 
at the age of seventy-six. He had developed a very beautiful 
character, often praying with a trembling voice and tearful 
eyes for suffering humanity. Just before he fell asleep in 
Jesus, he wrote a farewell letter to his sons and daughters. 
The letter was written in the Palace of Kief, nearly a thousand 
years ago, and is still preserved on parchment in the archives 
of the monarchy. Every reader will admire its truly Chris- 
tian spirit. 

" My dear children," he wrote, " the foundation of all reli- 
gion is the love of God and the love of man. Obey your 
heavenly Father ; and love man, your brother. It is not fast- 
ing, it is not monastic seclusion, which will confer the favor of 
God: it is doing good to your brother-man. Never forget the 
poor : take care of them. Do not hoard up riches : that is con- 
trary to the teachings of our Saviour. Be a father to orphans j 



THE DARK AGES. 409 

protect widows ; and never permit the powerful tr oppress the 
weak. 

"Abstain from every thing that is wrong. Banish from 
your heart all pride. Remember that we all must die : to-day 
full of life, to-morrow in the tomb. When you are travelling 
on horseback, instead of allowing your mind to wander upon 
vain thoughts, recite your prayers, or at least. repeat the best 
of them all : ' Lord ! have mercy upon us. ? 

"Never retire at night without falling upon your knees 
before God in prayer. Always go to church at an early hour 
in the morning to offer to God the homage of your first and 
freshest thoughts. This was the custom of my father, and of 
all the pious people who surrounded him. With the first rays 
of the sun they praised the Lord, and exclaimed with fervor, 
' Condescend, Lord ! with thy Divine Spirit to illumine my 
soul.'" 

Near the commencement of the twelfth century, nearly all 
Christendom combined for the recovery of Jerusalem and 
the Holy Land from the Moslems. The crusades are generally 
regarded as among the strangest of all earthly frenzies. In 
the first crusade, a rabble, unorganized band of three hundred 
thousand persons, of all ages and both sexes, set out on an 
insane expedition to drive out of Syria the warlike Moslems. 
Though the crusaders deemed their enterprise a sacred one, 
their conduct was often such as could scarcely have been 
exceeded in wickedness by incarnate fiends. Not one of those 
who embarked in this first crusade ever reached Jerusalem : 
only a remnant of about twenty thousand, after extreme suffer- 
ings, ragged and starving, regained their homes.* The well- 
armed and organized Turks cut down the fanatic rabble as 
the mower does the grass. 

The next year there was another campaign commenced, 
still more imposing in numbers, and a little more formidable 
in warlike character. All the steel-clad knights of Europe 
mounted their chargers, eager to gain and to win the favor of 
Heaven by the slaughter of the infidel Turk. Six hmdred 
thousand men — as motley an assemblage as ignorance and 



4iO nisTont of cnntsfiAXiTV. 

fanaticism ever brought together — commenced their march 
across Europe to the Holy Land. Trusting that they shoal I 
receive supernatural aid, they made but slight provision for 
their want a Soon all the horses died: famine and sickness 
decimated their ranks. There was no discipline, no self-com- 
mand; and the wildest excesses reigned. Their track was 
strewn with the bodies of the dead. 

As they drew near to Jerusalem, their numbers had dwin- 
dled to sixty thousand ; but these were the boldest, the strong- 
est, the hardiest. With energy which religions enthusiasm 
alone could inspire, they hurled themselves upon the defences 
of Jernsalem, broke open the gates, clambered xha walls, and, 
after a scene of awful carnage, succeeded in recapturing the 
city. This was in July, 1090. Of the vast arm;/ which had 
left Europe, not ten thousand survived to return to their native 
land. 

Though Jerusalem was taken, there were many portions of 
Palestine still in the hands of the Moslems. The insane idea 
then arose of organizing a crusade of children against them. 
Fanaticism affirmed that Christ would interpose in their be- 
half, and give the weak a victory over the strong; thus show- 
ing how God, out cf the mouths of babes and sucklings, could 
perfect his praise. It seems almost incredible, but it is appar- 
ently well authenticated, that ninety thousand boj-s, of but ten 
or twelve years of age, commenced their march across Europe 
to present their innocence and helplessness to the cimeter of 
the bearded Turk. 

" When the madness of the time," writes Rev. James White, 
"had originated a crusade of children, and ninety thousand 
boys, of but ten or twelve 3 T ears of age, had commenced their 
journey, singing hymns and anthems, and hoping to conquer 
the infidels wr*h the spiritual arms of innocence and pra3 T er, 
the whole band melted away before they reached the coast. 
Barons and counts, and bishops and dukes, all swooped down 
upon the devoted march ; and, before many weeks' journey- 
ing was achieved, the crusade was brought to a close. Most 
of the children, had died of fatigue or starvation j and the 



THE DARK AGES. ill 

Survivors had "been seized as legitimate prey, .and sold as 
slaves." l 

The introduction of Christianity into Russia early in the 
eleventh century is one of the most interesting events in the 
history of the Church. Vladimir the king, a pagan, but a 
thoughtful man, had heard of Christianity, and became anxious 
respecting his own destiny beyond the grave. lie made ear- 
nest inquiries of the teachers of all forms of religion respect- 
ing their peculiar tenets. 

He summoned the Mohammedan doctors from Bulgaria, the 
Jews from Jerusalem, and Christian bishops from the Papal 
Church at Rome and the Greek Church at Constantinople 
lie soon rejected the systems of Jews ami of the Mohammed- 
ans as unworthy of farther consideration, but was undecided 
respecting the apparently-conflicting schemes of Home and 
Constantinople. 

He therefore selected ten of the wisest men in his kingdom, 
and sent them to visit Eome, and then Constantinople, and 
report in which country divine worship was conducted in a 
manner most worthy of the Supreme Being. The ambassa-^ 
dors seem to have made a very thorough investigation in both 
capitals. Upon their return to Kief, they reported in favor of 
the faith and ceremonies of the Greek Church. The king, 
still undecided, and impressed with the importance of the 
measures upon which he had entered, assembled a number of 
his most virtuous and distinguished nobles, and took counsel 
of them. Their voices also were in favor of the Greek Church. 

This wonderful event is well authenticated. Nestor gives a 
recital of it in its minute details. An old Greek manuscript, 
preserved in the royal library of Paris, records the visit of 
these ambassadors to both Rome and Constantinople. 

There must have been a commingling of man} 7- motives 
which influenced Vladimir in his course. He had been a very 
wicked man. He had' sought, but in vain, to appease the 
gnawings of conscience by the debasing rites of paganism. 
Some light from Christianity had reached his mind, as Chris- 

1 Eighteen Christian Centuries, p. 200 



412 



HISTORY OF CURISTIANlft 



tian missionaries occasionally traversed his semi-barbaric realms. 
Indeed, the gospel had been already preached in idolatrous 
Kief, and some converts had been won to it. Vladimir had 
also sufficient intelligence to perceive that the paganism into 
which his realms were plunged was brutalizing. It is not 
probable that thus far he had been the subject of a change 
of heart: it was merely a change of policy, — an intellectual 
rather than a spiritual transformation. 

Having resolved to renounce paganism, and to adopt Chris- 
tianity, he deemed it important that the event should be 
accompanied with pageantry so imposing as to produce a deep 
impression upon his simple and ignorant subjects. The ex- 
traordinary measures he adopted show how little he then com- 
prehended the true spirit of Christianity. 

He assembled an immense army ; with it descended the 
Dneiper in boats ; sailed across the Black Sea; and entering the 
Gulf of Cherson, near Sevastopol, after several bloody battles 
took military possession of the Crimea. Thus victorious, he 
sent an embassage to Basil and Constantino, the two emperors 
then unitedly reigning at Constantinople, announcing that he 
wished the young Christian Princess Anne, daughter of one 
of the emperors, for his bride ; and that, if she were not imme- 
diately sent to him, he would advance upon Constantinople, ?nd 
utterly destroy the city. 

The emperors, trembling in view of this menace, which they 
were conscious they had not the power to avert, after much 
anxious deliberation returned the answer, that they would 
accede to his request if he would first embrace Christianity. 
To this proposition Vladimir cordially assented, as it was 
quite in accordance with his plans. He, however, demanded 
that the Princess Anne should be sent immediately to him, 
stating that he would be baptized at the time of his nuptials. 

The unhappy maiden was overwhelmed with anguish in 
view of what appeared to her a dreadful doom. She regarded 
the pagan Russians as ferocious savages, and would have pre- 
ferred repose in the grave to her union with Vladimir. But 
policy, which is the religion of cabinets, demanded the sacri- 



THE DARK AGES. 413 

fice. The princess, weeping in despair, was conducted to the 
camp of Vladimir, accompanied by several of the most dis- 
tinguished ecclesiastics and nobles of the empire. She was 
received with the most gorgeous demonstrations of rejoicing. 
The whole army was drawn up in battle-array to add the bril- 
liancy of military pageantry to nuptial festivities. 

The ceremony of baptizing the king was performed in the 
church of Basil, in the city of Cherson. Immediately after 
this ceremony, the marriage-rites with the princess were sol- 
emnized. Vladimir ordered a large church to be built at 
Cherson in memory of his visit. He then returned to Kief 
with the bride whom the sword and diplomacy had won, tak- 
ing with him several preachers distinguished for their elo- 
quence. He also obtained from Constantinople a communion- 
service wrought in the most graceful proportions of Grecian 
art, and also several exquisite specimens of statuary, that he 
might inspire his subjects with a love for the beautiful. 

With great docility the king accepted the Christian teachers 
as his guides, and devoted himself with untiring energy to 
the work of abolishing idolatry and establishing Christianity 
throughout his realms. Vigorous and sagacious measures were 
adopted to throw contempt upon the ancient paganism. The 
idols were collected, and burned in huge bonfires amidst the 
derisive shoutings of the people. The statue of Peroune, the 
most illustrious of the pagan gods, was dragged ignominiously 
through the streets with a rope round its neck, followed by 
the hooting multitude pelting it with mud and scourging it 
with whips ; until at last, battered and defaced, it was dragged 
to the top of a precipice, and tumbled headlong into the river. 

Vladimir now issued a decree to all the inhabitants of the 
capital and of all the adjoining region to repair to the banks 
of the Dneiper, in the vicinity of Kief, to be baptized. The 
rich and the poor, the nobles and the serfs, were alike sum- 
moned. At the appointed clay the multitude assembled by 
tens of thousands, and crowded the banks of the stream. The 
emperor himself at length appeared, accompanied by a large 
iiumber of ecclesiastics from Constantinople, IJe took his 



414 



HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 



seat upon an elevated throne that he might witness the 
imposing ceremonies. 

At a given signal, the whole multitude waded slowly into 
the stream. Some boldly advanced up to their necks ; others, 
more timid, ventured only up to their waists. Fathers and 
mothers led their children by the hand. When all were 
standing quietly in the stream, the clergy upon the shore 
offered baptismal prayers, chanted hymns of thanksgiving, and 
then declared that all were Christians, having been baptized 
in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Ghost. The multitude then came up from the water nominal 
Christians. 

Vladimir, who was sincere and truthful in all these strange 
movements, was in a transport of joy. Profoundly excited by 
the sublimity of the scene, he raised his Hooded eyes to heaven, 
and, with great fervor, offered the following simple and touch- 
ing prayer : — 

" thou Creator of heaven and earth ! extend thy blessing 
to these thy new children. May they know thee as the true 
God, and be strengthened by thee in the true religion ! Come 
to my help against the temptations of the Evil Spirit, and I 
will praise thy name." 

Thus, at a blow, paganism was demolished throughout nearly 
all Russia, and Christianity was introduced in its place. Im- 
perial energies were expended in rearing artistic churches of 
stone all ever the empire. Christian missionaries, under the 
patror age of the emperor, traversed the realm, teaching the 
people the new religion. Nearly all the population gladly 
received the Christian faith. Some, however, still adhered to 
paganism. Vladimir respected their rights of conscience, and 
for a lew years the wretched delusions of idolatry lingered in 
secluded spots ; but Russia became nominally a Christian land. 

Light dawned rapidly upon the mind of Vladimir, and ho 
became a warm-hearted Christian, — one of the most loving 
and lovable of men. War had been his passion. In this 
respect his whole nature seemed to be changed. Nothing but 
dire necessity* couH lead hini to an appeal to arms. TUo. 



TI2E DARK AGES. 415 

Princess Anne appears to have been a sincere Christian. She 
found a happy home in the Palace of Kief. Her virtues and 
piety won the love and reverence of her husband. Her whole 
life was devoted to doing good ; and, when this Christian sis- 
ter fell asleep in Jesus, she was soon followed to the tomb by 
her grief-stricken husband. 

The name of Vladimir is still revered throughout all Pussia. 
He was the greatest benefactor Eussia ever knew. In his 
career we see how noble is the life of the Christian : it is the 
only life which is truty noble. Christianity, as a principle, 
embraces every virtue which can glow in an angel's bosom : 
as an agent of beneficence, it promotes all conceivable good 
for time and eternity ; as an agent of happiness, it fills all 
homes and all hearts with joy ; as a motive to action, it com- 
bines all the conceivabb joj^s of an endless life to inspire one 
with tireless energies to promote God's glory and man'a 
welfare. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



THE REFORMATION. 




Two Aspects of Catholicism.— Jubilee at Rome. — Infamy of Philip of Franca. — 
Banditti Bishops. — Sale of Indulgences. — Tetzel the Peddler. — The Rise of 
Protestantism. — Luther and the Diet at Worms. — Intolerance of Charles V.— 
Civil War and its Reverses. — Perfidy of Charles V. — Coalition against the 
Protestants. — Abdication of Charles V. — His Death. 



HE Papal Chuich presents two aspects quite dif- 
ferent from each other. The one is that of a 
spiritual and practical religion, in which that 
branch of the Church of Christ has furnished 
some of the most lovely exhibitions of piety the 
world has ever seen. Fenelon and Pascal were 
among the noblest of the disciples of the Re- 
deemer. Through all the darkest ages of the Church there 
have been a multitude, which no man can number, who have 
followed their Saviour, even to the cross, in his lowly life of 
benevolence, and his self-sacrifice for others. 

The Catholic Church was, for centuries, almost the only or- 
ganized representative of the religion of Jesus. It contained 
within its bosom all the piety there was on earth. These hum- 
ble Christians, sometimes buried and almost smothered beneath 
the ceremonies which the Church imposed upon them, mani- 
fested through life the true spirit of Jesus, and passed away, 
in death, triumphant to their crowns. 

But there is another aspect in which the Papal Church pre- 
sents itself on the pages of history. It is that of a political 

m 



THE REFORMATION. 417 

organization, grasped by ambitious men, and wielded by them 
as an instrument of personal aggrandizement. 

The Bishop of Boine, claiming to stand in God's stead, with 
power to admit to heaven or to consign to hell, became, in 
many cases, a conspirator with kings and princes to inthrall 
mankind. As an illustration of this infamous perversion of 
Christianity, it may be mentioned, that, early in the fourteenth 
century, Pope Boniface designed to get up a magnificent cele- 
bration in honor of the popedom. 

He appointed a jubilee at Borne. As an inducement to 
lead an innumerable band to cluster in homage around him, he 
promised that all who came to Borne to attend the jubilee 
should not only have their past sins pardoned, but should also 
receive an indulgence, or, as it was popularly understood, per- 
mission to commit any sins they wished for a limited time to 
come. We easily believe that which we wish to believe. The 
proud and dissolute barons of Europe were glad to accept a 
doctrine by which they could so easily escape the penalty of 
their enormous sins. They were also only too eager to support 
the pope in all his pretensions, receiving in return his power- 
ful, almost supernatural influence in holding the fanatic peas- 
antry in subjection to their will. 

At this magnificent jubilee the pope led the procession, 
dressed in imperial robes. Two swords, the emblems of tem- 
poral and of spiritual power, and the globe, the emblem of uni- 
versal sovereignty, were carried before him. A herald went 
in advance, crying, — 

" Peter, behold thy successor ! Christ, behold thy vicar upon 
earth ! " Such crimes not ^infrequently in this life meet with 
conspicuous punishment. Pope Boniface became insane, broke 
from his keepers, and foaming at the mouth, and gnashing his 
teeth, died uttering the most horrid blasphemies. 

Af^er the death of Boniface, Philip, King of France, sur- 
named the Handsome, who was then the most powerful mon- 
arch in Christendom, bribed a majority of the cardinals to elect 
one of his creatures to the pontifical chair. There was a vile, 
unscrupulous courtier in the palace, who had been promoted to 

27 



418 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

the high ecclesiastical position of Archbishop of Bordeaux. 
He made as little pretence to piety as did the hounds lie fol- 
lowed in the chase. Tile king summoned the archbishop, 
whose name was Bernard de Goth, to meet him at one of hi3 
hunting-lodges in the forest. There he said to him, — 

" Archbishop, I have power to make 3 t ou pope if I choose. 
If you will promise me six favors which I shall ask of you as 
pope, I will confer upon you that dignity." 

The astonished and ovcrj'03'ed archbishop threw himself ufc 
the king's feet, saying, "My lord, it is for 3*011 to- command, 
for mo to obey. I shall be always ready to do your will." 

■■ The six special favors I have to ask are these : first, that 
you will reconcile me entirely with the Church, that I may be 
pardoned for 1:13' arrest of Pope Boniface VIII. ; second, thai 
3 t ou will give me and all my supporters the communion ; third, 
that you will grant me tithes of the clerg3' for five 3-ears, to 
meet the expenses of the war in Flanders; fourth, that you 
will destroy the memory of Boniface VIII. ; fifth, that 3 r ou 
will confer the dignity of cardinal upon Messrs. Jacobo, Piero, 
and others of my friends. The sixth favor I reserve for the 
proper time and place : it is a great and secret thing." 

The archbishop, having taken the most solemn oaths to grant 
these requests, ascended, b3 r the intrigues of the king, the papal 
throne, with the title of Clement V. He became as obsequi- 
ously the servant of the King of France as any slave is sub- 
missive to his master. The king and his pope joined 1 ands 
to oppress and rob the world. 

" His Holiness Clement V. was, therefore, the thrall and 
servant of Philip le Bel. No office was too lowly or sacri- 
fice too large for the grateful pontiff: he became, in fact, a 
citizen of France, and a subject of the crown. He delivered 
over the clergy to the relentless hands of the king. He gave 
him tithes of all their livings. As the Count of Flandeis owed 
money to Philip which he had no means of paying, the gene- 
rosity of the pope came to the rescue ; and he gave tithes of 
the Flemish clergy to the bankrupt count, in order to enable 
him to pay his debt to the exacting monarch. The pope did 






THE PREFORMATION. 419 

not reduce his own demands in consideration of the sub- 
sidies given to those powers : he completed, indeed, tho 
ruin the ro} r al tax-gatherers began ; for he travelled in more 
than imperial state from end to end of France, and ate 
bishop and abbot and prior and prebendary out of house and 
home." x 

Christendom, then miserably poor, became impoverished by 
their exactions. These imperial robbers turned to the Jews, 
an I robbed them mercilessly. The unarmed peasantry could 
present no resistance to the steel-clad warriors mounted on 
powerful chargers; which steeds were also caparisoned in coats 
of mail. These knights, in their impenetrable armor, could 
plunge upon almost an}- multitude of the peasantry, and disperse 
them like sheep when wolves rush into the fold. But it is 
not always that the battle is to the strong. We can often see in 
history the indications of God's retributive providence. There 
were seasons when these proud knights fell before their 
despised victims. 

In the beginning of the fourteenth century an army of 
these mailed warriors entered Flanders, hacking and hewing 
in all directions. The manufacturing citizens at the town of 
Courtrai secretly dug a^ blind ditch in the path of the invaders. 
The impetuous knights, breathing through their cross-barred 
visors, and goggling through the holes left for their e}'es, 
spurred their horses forward in solid mass, and fell headlong, 
horse and rider, with their heavy and inextricable weight of 
armor, into the trap set for them. It was a horrible massacre, 
— an avalanche of overthrown, struggling horses and human 
bodies cased in steel. 

The momentum of the vast mass was such, that their onward 
movement could not be checked. The pressure behind forced 
forward those in the advance, till thousands were plunged into 
the abyss, writhing, struggling, choking, like vipers in a vase. 
The infuriated peasants and mechanics on the other side of 
the ditch, with clubs and every other available weapon, beat 
out the brains of those who endeavored to escape from the 

1 Eighteen Christian Centuries, Rev. James White, p. 131. 



420 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

maelstrom of death. This enormous slaughter nearly depopu- 
lated France of its lords and princes. 

The corruptions which had crept into the secularized 
Church more and more appalled the more devout both of the 
clergy and of the laity. True men began to speak loudly 
against these corruptions, and continued so to speak, notwith- 
standing all the denunciations of temporal and ecclesiastical 
power. 

The leading cardinals, archbishops, and bishops, appointed 
by infamous popes and kings, were almost universally irreli- 
gious and corrupt men. There were some noble exceptions ; 
but sincere piety was more generally found only with the more 
humble of the clergy, and with the common people. 

In order to raise money, Pope Leo X., early in the sixteenth 
century, devised the plan of selling indulgences. A regular 
tariff of prices was fixed for the pardon of all crimes, from mur- 
der downwards. If a man wished to commit any outrage, or 
to indulge in any forbidden wickedness, he could do so at a 
stipulated price, and receive from the pope a full pardon. These 
permits, or indulgences as they were called, were peddled all 
over Europe, and an immense revenue was gathered from them. 
There was one man, by the name of John Tetzel, a brazen- 
faced miscreant, who made himself very notorious as a peddler 
of these indulgences. He traversed Northern France and 
Germany, engaged in this nefarious traffic. 

In a cart gorgeously embellished, and accompanied by a 
musical band, he would approach some populous town, and 
tarry somewhere in the suburbs until his emissaries had 
entered the place and informed the inhabitants of the signal 
honor which awaited them from the advent of a nuncio from 
the pope with pardons for sin at his disposal. 

All the church-bells would be set ringing for joy : the whole 
population would be thrown into the greatest excitement to 
receive the brilliant pageant. At the appointed hour the cav- 
alcade entered, bedizened with all the gorgeous finery of a 
modern menagerie display. Tetzel carried, in the capacious 
box of his peddler's cart, the parchment certificates of pardon 



THE REFORMATION. 421 

for every imaginary sin. Murder, adultery, theft, sacrilege, 
blasphemy, — every crime had its specified price. 

One could purchase pardon or ahsolution for any crime which 
had already heen committed, or he could purchase permission 
to commit the crime if it were one he wished to perpetrate. 
With music and banners the procession advanced to the public 
square. Here Tetzel, mounted upon his box, with all the volu- 
bility of a modern mountebank palmed off his wares upon the 
eager crowd. 

" My brothers/' said this prince of impostors, " God has sent 
me to you with his last and greatest gift. The Church is in 
need of money. I am empowered by the pope, God's vice- 
gerent, to absolve you from any and every crime you may have 
committed, no matter what it may be. The moment the money 
tinkles in the bottom of the box, your soul shall be as pure as 
that of the babe unborn. 

" I can also grant you indulgence ; so that any sins you may 
jxunmit hereafter shall all be blotted out. More than this : if 
you have any friends now in purgatory suffering in those awful 
flames, I am empowered, in consideration of the money you 
grant the Church in this its hour of need, to cause that soul 
to be immediately released from purgatory, and to be borne on 
angel-wings to heaven." 

Enlightened as the masses of the people are at the present 
lay, we can hardly imagine the effect these representations 
produced upon an ignorant and superstitious people who had 
ever been trained to the belief that the pope was equal in 
power to God. These peddlings of indulgences for sin were 
carried on all over Europe, and enormous sums of money were 
thus raised. The certificates, which were issued like govern- 
ment-bonds, ran in this form : — 

"I, by the authority of Jesus Christ, his blessed apostles 
Peter and Paul, and the most holy pope, absolve thee from all 
thy .sins, transgressions, and excesses, how enormous soever 
they may be. I remit to thee all punishment which thou dost 
deserve in purgatory on their account, and restore thee to the 
innocence and purity thou didst possess at baptism ; so that, 



422 msTonr of cnnisTiAmTY. 

when thou diest, the gates of punishment shall be shut against 
thee, and the gates of paradise shall be thrown wide open." 

It was this sale of indulgences which opened the eyes of 
Luther and other devout men to the corruptions which had 
crept into the Church. We have not space here to enter into 
the details of the great Protestant Reformation which ensued : 
the reader can find in the pages of D'Aubigne, which are 
easily accessible, a graphic narrative of its incidents. Notwith- 
standing the ferocious hostility of popes and kings, the Refor- 
mation spread rapidly among the masses of the people ; and 
several sovereigns and princes of high rank, disgusted with the 
arrogance of the popes, espoused its principles. The Emperor 
Maximilian wrote to one of the leading men in the Saxon 
court in reference to Luther, — 

"All the popes I have had any thing to do with have been 
rogues and cheats. The game with the priests is beginning. 
What your monk is doing is not to be despised. Take care of 
him : it may happen that we shall have need of him." 

Providentially, the Elector of Saxony w r as the friend and 
protector of Luther. The intrepid monk wrote to the pope a 
remonstrance against the iniquities which were practised at 
Rome. 

"You have three or four cardinals," he wrote, "of learning 
and faith ; but what are these three or four in so vast a crowd 
of infidels and reprobates ? The days of Rome are numbered, 
and the anger of God has been breathed forth upon her. She 
hates councils, she dreads reform, and will not hear of a check 
being placed on her desperate impiety." 

A diet was summoned at Worms, composed of the princes 
and potentates of the great German empire. The Emperor 
Charles V. presided. Such a spectacle the world had never 
witnessed before. Luther was summoned to appear before this 
body to be tried for heresy. In those treacherous days it was 
not deemed safe for Luther to place himself in the hand?! oi 
his enemies, though he had obtained a safe-condnct from the 
emperor. His friends urged him not to go to Worms. Ha 
replied, — 



tnE KEFORMATIOIT. 423 

"If there were as many devils in Worms as there are tiles 
on the roofs of the houses, I would still go there." 

Before that august assembly, which had predetermined his 
condemnation and death, Luther made an eloquent defence, 
which he concluded in the following words : — 

"Let me, then, be refuted and convinced by the testimony 
cf the Scriptures, or by the clearest arguments ; otherwise I 
cai.not and will not recant; for it is neither safe nor expedient 
to act against conscience. Here I take my stand. I can do 
no otherwise, so help inc God ! Amen." 

He was suffered to depart under his safe-conduct ; but he 
was closely followed, and measures were taken to arrest him the 
moment his safe-conduct should expire. 

As, on his return home, he was passing through the gloomy 
paths of a forest, some horsemen suddenly appeared, seized 
him, dressed him in the disguise of military costume, put on 
him a false beard, mounted him on a horse, and drove ::apidly 
away. 

" His friends were anxious about his fate ; for a dreadful sen- 
tence had been uttered against him by the emperor on the 
day when his safe-conduct expired, forbidding any one to sus- 
tain or shelter him, and -ordering all persons to arrest and 
bring him into prison to await the judgment he deserved/' * 

To rescue him from" this doom, the Elector of Saxony had 
sent these troops, who convej^ed him secretly, but in safety, to 
the Castle of Wartburg. Thus, while it was generally sup- 
posed that he had been waylaid and slain, he was peacefully 
prosecuting his studies within the walls of the fortress, safe 
from his foes. 

The conflict between the reformers and the opponents of 
reform soon became the all-engrossing question of the age. 
Mary were of the opinion that the end of the world was at 
hand. The whole continent of Europe was shaken by reli- 
gious and political commotions. The religious question rallied 
powerful princes on the opposite sides. The Turks, in appar» 
ently overpowering numbers, were thundering at the gates of 

1 Eighteen Christian Centuries. 



424 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

many of the Eastern cities. France was a maelstrom of ex- 
citement. Bigoted Spain declared " heresy " punishable with 
death. Terrible earthquakes shook the globe. A large por- 
tion of Lisbon in a moment was whelmed in ruin, burying 
thirty thousand of the inhabitants beneath the debris. An 
enormous ocean-wave swept the coast of Holland, consigning 
four hundred thousand people to a watery grave. 

In the year 1530, the Emperor Charles V. determined to 
enforce by military power the oppressive decrees adopted by 
the Diet at Worms. But the Reformation in Germany had 
made extraordinary progress. Many German princes had 
adopted its principles, and were ready to draw the sword in 
its defence. These princes united in a solemn protest against 
this papal intolerance. This protest was signed by such men 
as John, Elector of Saxony, George, Margrave of Brandenburg, 
two Dukes of Brunswick, the Landgrave of ITesse-Cassel, and 
the governors of twenty-four imperial cities. From this formi- 
dable protest, which was issued in the spring of the year 1529, 
the reformers took the name of Protestants, which they 
retain at the present day. 

The Emperor Charles V., alarmed by this protest, after sev- 
eral long interviews with the pope, assembled a new diet at 
Augsburg in April, 1530. Hoping by menaces or bribes to 
silence the voice of Protestanism, he assumed the air of can- 
dor. " I have convened," he said, " this assembly to consider 
the difference of opinion upon the subject of religion. It is 
my intention to hear both parties impartially, to examine their 
respective arguments, and to reform what requires to be re- 
formed, that there may be in future only one pure and simple 
faith, and that, as all are the disciples of the same Jesus, all 
may form one and the same church." 

The Protestants appointed Luther and Melancthon to draw 
up a confession of their faith. Luther was a stern, unyielding 
man : Melancthon was amiable and pliant. Though they 
agreed in their confession, it did not exactly suit either. It 
was a little too yielding for Luther, and too uncompromising 
for Melancthon. Subsequently the document was revised by 



THE REFORMATION. 425 

Melancthon, and somewhat softened to meet his own views. 
As thus modified, it was adopted by the German people who 
took the title of German Reformed. The Lutherans adhered 
to the original document. 

The emperor, in co-operation with the pope, now threw off 
the mask, and resolved by force of arms to compel all to con- 
form to the doctrines rnd usages of the Papal Church. He 
began to gather his armies to crush the Protestants. They 
entered into a league for mutual protection. A civil, religious 
war was just about to burst upon Germany, when the Turks, 
with an army three hundred thousand strong, commenced the 
ascent of the Danube. The emperor, alarmed by this terrible 
invasion, was compelled to call upon the Protestants for aid ; 
but they feared the dungeons and flame of the Papal Inquisi- 
tion more than they did the cimeter of the Turk. They knew 
full well, that, as soon as the Turks were repelled, the emperor 
would, turn the energies of his swcrd against them. Still 
Germany, Protestant and Catholic, had every thing to fear 
from the ravages and outrages of the barbarian Turk. 

After long negotiations, the Protestants consented to co-oper- 
ate with the emperor in repelling the invasion, upon receiving 
his solemn pledge to grant them freedom of conscience and 
of worship. Charles was astonished at the energy with which 
the Protestants came forward to the war. They even tripled 
the contingents which they had promised, and fell upon the 
invaders with such intrepidity as to drive them back pell-mell 
to the banks of the Bospliorus. Charles then, in violation of 
his pledge, began to proceed against the Protestants. But 
they, armed, organized, and flushed with victory, were in no 
mood to submit to this perfidy. Some of the more considerate 
of the Papal party, foreseeing the torrents of blood that must 
flow, and the uncertain issue of the conflict, succeeded in pro- 
moting a compromise. 

Still Charles was merely temporizing. He at once entered 
into vigorous efforts to marshal a force sufficiently powerful to 
crush the Protestants. He concluded a truce with the Turks 
for five years \ he formed a league with Francis King of 



420 



titsront of cnmsTiAXirr. 



Franco, who promised him the whole military force of hia 
kingdom. In the mean time, the Protestants were busy wield- 
ing tho3e moral powers more potent than sabres or artillery, 
than chains or flames. Eloquent preachers were everywhere 
proclaiming the corruptions of the Papacy. The new doctrines 
of the Protestants involved the principles of civil as well as 
religious liberty. The most intelligent and conscientious all 
o^er Europe were rapidly embracing the new doctrine. Sev- 
eral of the ablest of the Catholic bishops espoused the Protes- 
tant cause. The emperor was quite appalled when he learned 
that the Archbishop of Cologne, who was one of the electors 
of the empire, had joined the Protestants. So many of the 
German princes had adopted the principles of the Reformation, 
that they had a majority in the electoral diet. In Switzer- 
land, also, Protestantism had won the majority of the people. 
Still, throughout Europe, Catholicism was in the vast ascend- 
ency. 

Charles resolved to attempt by stratagem that which he 
recoiled from undertaking by force. He proposed to the Prot- 
estants that a general council should be convened at Trent, 
and that each party should pledge itself to abide by the decis- 
ion of a majority of votes. The council, however, was to be 
summoned by the pope ; and Charles, by co-operation with the 
pope, had made arrangements that the overwhelming majority 
of the council should be opposed to the reformers. The Prot- 
estants, of course, rejected so silly a proposition. 

Still the emperor and the pope resolved to hold the council, 
and. to enforce its decrees by their armies. The pope furnished 
the emperor with thirteen thousand troops and over a million 
of dollars. Charles raised two large armies of his own sub- 
jects, — one in the Low Countries, and one in the States of 
Austria. His brother Ferdinand, King of Hungary and of 
Bohemia, also raised two armies of co-operation, one from each 
of those countries. The King of France mustered his confed- 
erate legions, and loudly proclaimed that the day of vengeance 
had come, in which the Protestants were to be annihilated 
The pope issued a decree, in which he offered the pardon of 



TnE REFORMATION. 427 

all their sins to those who should engage in this Wat of exter- 
mination of the Protestants. 

The reformers were in consternation: the forces marshalled 
against them seemed to bo resistless. But Providence does 
not always side with the heavy battalions. With energy 
which surprised both themselves and their foes, they raised an 
army of eighty thousand men, nearly ever}' individual of whom 
was a hero, fully comprehending the cause for which ho had 
drawn the sword, and ready to lay down his life in its defence. 
Battles ensued, blood flowed, and a wail of misery spread over 
the unhappy realms, which we have no space here to describe. 
Charles was apparently triumphant. He crushed, the Protes- 
tant league, subjected the pope to his will, and was about to 
convene a council to confirm ail he had done, when wide-spread 
disaffection, which had long been slumbering, blazed forth all 
over the German empire. 

The intolerance of the haughty monarch caused a general 
burst of indignation against him. Maurice, King of Saxony, 
which was the most powerful State of the Germanic confede- 
racy, headed the insurrection. France, anno3^ed by the arro- 
gance of the emperor, readily joined the standard of Maurice. 
The Protestants in crowds flocked to his ranks ; for he had 
issued a declaration that he had taken up arms to prevent the 
destruction of the Protestant religion, to defend the liberties 
of Germany, and to rescue from the dungeon innocent men 
imprisoned for their faith alone. Nominal Catholics were 
found shoulder to shoulder in co-operation with the Protestants. 
Whole provinces rushed to join this army. Maurice was re- 
garded as the advocate of civil and religious liberty. Imperial 
towns threw open their gates joyfully to Maurice. In one 
month, the aspect of every thing was changed. 

The Catholic ecclesiastics, who were assembling at Trent, 
alarmed at this new attitude of affairs, dissolved the assembly, 
and rlcd precipitately to their homes. The emperor was at 
Ennsprack — seated in his arm-chair, with his limbs bandaged 
in fl.umel, enfeebled, and suffering from a severe attack of the 
gout — when the intelligence of this sudden and overwhelm* 



428 HI8T0HY OF CHRtSTlAmTY. 

ing reverse reached him. He was astonished, and utterly con- 
founded. In weakness and pain, unable to leave his couch, 
with his treasury exhausted, his army widely scattered, and so 
pressed by their foes that they could not be concentrated, there 
was nothing left for him but to endeavor to beguile Maurice 
into a truce. But Maurice was as much at home in all the 
arts of cunning as was the emperor, and, instead of being be- 
guiled, contrived to entrap his antagonist. . This was a new 
and very salutary experience for Charles. It is a very novel 
sensation for a successful rcgue to be the dupe of roguery. 

Maurice pressed on, his army gathering force at every step. 
He entered the Tyrol, swept through all its valleys, and took 
possession of all its castles and sublime fastnesses ; and the 
blasts of his bugles reverberated through the cliffs of the moun- 
tains, ever sounding the charge and announcing victory, never 
signalling a defeat. The emperor was reduced to the terrible 
humiliation of saving himself from capture -only by flight. 
He could scarcely credit the statement when he received the 
appalling tidings that his foes were within a day's march of 
Innspruck, and that a squadron of horse might at any hour 
cut off his retreat. 

It was night when this communication was made to him, — 
a dark and stormy night, — the 20th of May, 1552. The rain 
fell in torrents, and the wind howled through the fir-trees and 
through the crags of the Alps. The tortures of the gout would 
not allow him to mount his horse, neither could he bear the 
jolting in a carriage over the rough roads. Some attenlants 
wrapped the monarch in blankets, took him into the courtyard 
of the palace, and placed him upon a litter. Servants led the 
way with lanterns ; and thus, through the inundated and 
storm-swept defiles, they fled with their helpless sovereign 
through the long hours of the tempestuous night, not daring 
to stop one moment, lest they should hear behind them the 
iron hoofs of their pursuers. 

What a change for one short month to produce ! What a 
comment upon earthly grandeur ! It is well for man, in the 
hour of exultant prosperity, to be humble : he knows not how 






THE REFORMATION. 429 

soon he may fall. Instructive, indeed, is the apostrophe of 
Cardinal Wolsey, illustrated as the truth he uttered is by 
almost every page of history : — 

" This is the state of man : To-day he puts forth 
The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms : 
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, 
And — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
His greatness is a-ripening — nips his root ; 
And then he falls as I do." 

The fugitive emperor did not venture to stop for refresh- 
ment or repose until he had reached the strong town of Vil- 
lach in Corinthia. The troops of Maurice soon entered the 
city which Charles had abandoned, and the imperial palace 
was surrendered to pillage. Heroic courage, indomitable per- 
severance, always command respect. These are noble quali- 
ties, though they may be exerted in a bad cause. The will of 
Charles was unconquerable. In these hours of disaster, tor- 
tured with pain, driven from his palace, impoverished, and 
borne upon his litter in humiliating flight before his foes, he 
was just as determined to enforce his plan as in the most bril- 
liant hour of victory. 1 

The emperor was at length constrained, in view of new men- 
aces from the Turks, to assent to the celebrated Treaty of 
Passau, on the 2d of August, 1552. The spirit of true tolera- 
tion was then scarcely known in the world. After long debate, 
in which both parties were often at the point of grasping arms, 
it was agreed that the Protestants should enjoy the free exer- 
cise of their religion in the places specified by the Augsburg 
Confession. In all other places Protestant princes might pro- 
hibit the Catholic religion in their States, and Catholic princes 
might prohibit the Protestant religion ; but in each case the 
expelled party were to be at liberty to sell their property, and 
to emigrate without molestation to some State where their reli- 
gion was dominant. Even this wretched burlesque of tolera- 
tion was so offensive to the pope, that he threatened to excom- 

1 Empire of Austria, by John S. C. Abbott. 



430 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

nmnicate the emperor and his brother Ferdinand if they did 
not immediately declare these decrees to be null and void 
throughout their dominions. 

Charles V. unquestionably inherited a taint of insanity. 
His mother, the unhappy Joanna, daughter of Isabella, Queen 
of Spain, after lingering for years in the most insupportable 
glooms of delirium, died en the 4th of April, 1555. Her impe- 
rial son had already become the victim of extreme despond- 
ency. Harassed hy disappointments, mortified by reverses, and 
annoyed by the undutiful conduct of his son, he shut himself 
up in his room, refusing to see any company but his sister and 
servants, and rendering himself insupportable to them by his 
petulance and moroseness. For nine months he did not sign 
a paper. He was but fifty-five years of age, but was prema- 
turely old, and the victim of many depressing diseases. There- 
was probably not a more wretched man in all Europe than the 
Emperor Charles V. 

He resolved, by abdicating the throne, to escape from the 
cares which tortured him. The important ceremony took 
place with much funereal pomp on the 4th of April, 1555. 

The emperor had fixed upon the Convent of Gt. Justus, in 
Estremadura, Spain, as the place of his retreat. The mas- 
sive pile was far removed from the busy scenes of the world, 
imbosomed among hills covered with wide-spread and gloomy 
forests, with a mountain rivulet murmuring by its walls. 
There is considerable diversity in the accounts transmitted to 
us of convent-life. According to the best evidence which can 
now be obtained, it was as follows : — 

The emperor caused to be erected within the walls of the 
convent a small building, two stories high, with four rooms on 
each floor. These rooms, tapestried in mourning, were com- 
fortably furnished. Choice paintings ornamented the walls, 
and the emperor was served from silver plate. Charles was 
not of a literary turn of mind, and a few devotional books con- 
stituted his only library. A pleasant garden, with a high 
enclosure which sheltered the recluse from all observation, 
invited the emperor to gravelled walks fringed with flowers. 



THE REFORMATION. 431 

The days passed monotonously. The emperor attended 
mass every morning in the chapel, and dined at an early hour 
in the refectory of the convent. After dinner he listened for 
a short time to the rea'ding of some hook of devotion. He was 
scrupulously attentive to the fasts and festivals of the Church, 
and, every evening, listened to a sermon in the chapel. In 
penance for his sins, he scourged himself frequently with such 
severity of flagellation, that the cords of the whip were stained 
with blood. 

Being fond of mechanical pursuits, he employed many hours 
in carving puppets ami children's playthings, and constructed 
some articles of furniture. His room was filled with time- 
pieces of every variety of construction. It is said, that, when 
he found how impossible it was to make any two of them keep 
precisely the same time, he exclaimed upon his past folly in 
endeavoring to compel all men to think alike upon the subject 
of religion. 

His bodily sufferings were severe from the gout, by which 
he was helplessly crippled. Most of the time he spent in 
extreme dejection. It was evident that his health was rapidly 
failing, and that, ere long, he must sink into the grave. Under 
these circumstances, he adopted the extraordinary idea of 
rehearsing his own funeral. As the story has generally come 
down to us, all the melancholy arrangements for his burial 
were made, and the coffin provided. The emperor reclined upon 
his bed as if dead: he was wrapped in his shroud, and placed 
in his coffin. The monks and all the inmates of the convent 
attended in mourning; the bells tolled, requiems were chanted 
by the choir, the funeral-service was read; and then the em- 
peror, as if dead, was placed in the tomb of the chapel, and the 
congregation retired. 

The monarch, after remaining some time in his cofOn to im- 
press himself with what it is to die and be buried, rose from the 
tomb, kneeled before the altar in the chill church for some time 
in worship, and then returned to his room to pass the night in 
meditation and prayer. The shock and chill of these melan- 
choly scenes were too much for the feeble frame and weakened 



432 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

mind of the monarch. He was seized with a fever, and in a 
few days breathed his last; and his spirit ascended to that 
tribunal where all must answer for the deeds done in the body. 

The reformers of the sixteenth century, in the various coun- 
tries of Europe, have acquired renown which will never die. 
We give a group containing the portraits of five, who were 
among the most illustrious of these men, with the accompany- 
ing brief sketch of their lives. 

John Calvin was born at Noyon, in Picardy, one of the 
northern provinces of France, on the 10th of July, 1509. In 
his earliest years he developed remarkable intellect; and his 
father, who was a cooper, dedicated him to the Church. When 
twelve years of age, he received a benefice in the cathedral of 
his native city; and, when but eighteen years old, was ap- 
pointed to a cure. While still pursuing in Paris his theological 
studies, the great truths of the reformers dawned upon hi3 
mind, and so disturbed him, that he renounced his intention of 
serving in the priesthood, and devoted himself to the study 
of the law. 

When but twenty-two years_of age, he published a Latin 
commentary upon the "De dementia" of Seneca; and, being 
suspected of favoring the new doctrine of the reformers, he was 
compelled to flee from Paris. The Canon of Angouleme gave 
him refuge ; and under his hospitable roof he commenced writ- 
ing his world-renowned work, " The Institutes of the Christian 
Religion." He devoted two years to this treatise, and in the 
mean time repaired to Navarre. Queen Margaret of Navarre, 
who was the cordial patron of learned men, received him hos- 
pitably. Here Calvin continued to pursue his studies, and 
made the acquaintance of many of the most eminent men o e 
Europe in all the various branches of learning. After a time, 
returning to Prance, he was again compelled to seek safety 
in flight; and he established himself at Basle. 

Here he published, in August, 1535, his "Institutes." It 
was a carefully-drawn-up confession of the faith of those who 
in France were condemned to the most terrible persecution, 
an d even to the stake, for their opinions. The excitement and 



THE BEFORMATIOW. . 433 

peril of the times were such, that the work had an immense 
circulation among the reformers all over Europe, and placed 
Calvin at the head of the advocates of the new doctrines. 

" Scattered far and wide through schools, the castles of the 
noblesse, the houses of the citizens, even the workshops of the 
people, ' The Institutes ' "became the most powerful of preach- 
ers. Around this hook the Protestants gathered as around a 
standard. They found every thing there, — doctrine, disci- 
pline, church organization." 1 

The work was dedicated to the king, Francis I. In this 
dedication Calvin said, " It is your office, sire, not to turn away 
your ears or your heart from so just a defence, especially since 
it is a question of great importance to know how the glory of 
God shall be maintained on the earth. Oh subject worthy of 
your attention, worthy of your jurisdiction, worthy of your 
royal throne ! " 

It is said that the king did not deign even to read this epis- 
tle. In 1536 Calvin was appointed pastor of a church, and 
professor of a theological school, in Geneva. His voluminous 
writings continued to attract the attention of all Europe, and 
the Erench Protestants generally took the name of Calvinists. 
The amount of labor performed by Calvin seems almost incredi- 
ble. He preached daily, delivered theological lectures three 
times a week, and attended all the meetings of the Consistory 
of the Association of Ministers, and was the leading mind in 
the councils. He was continually consulted for advice upon 
questions of law and theology. Pie issued a vast number of 
pamphlets in defence of his opinions, commentaries on the 
Bible, and maintained a very extensive correspondence with 
distinguished men all over Europe. Besides his numerous 
printed sermons, he left in the library of Geneva two thousand 
and twenty-five in manuscript. 2 

The burning of Michael Servetus at the stake for heresy is 
often urged as an irreparable blot upon the character of Cal- 
vin. Candid men will attribute much of the intolerance of 

1 The History of the Protestants in France, by G. de Felice, p. 68. 
» Encyclopaedia Americana. 

28 



434 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

individuals in those days to the spirit of the times. Speaking 
upon this subject, M. G. de Felice says very judiciously, — 

" The execution of Michael Servetus has furnished the sub- 
ject of a disputation constantly renewed. An able historian 
of our day, M. Mignet, has just devoted a long and learned 
dissertation to it. It would lead us entirely beyond our plan 
to enter into these details. 1. Servetus was not an ordinary 
heretic. He was a bold pantheist, and outraged the dogma 
of all Christian communions by saying that God in three per- 
sons was a Cerberus, — a monster with three heads. 2. He had 
already been condemned to death by the Catholic doctors at 
Vienna, in Dauphiny. 3. The affair was judged, not by Cal- 
vin, but by the magistrates of Geneva ; and, if it is objected 
that his advice must have influenced their decision, it is neces- 
sary to recollect that the councils of the other reformed can- 
tons of Switzerland approved the sentence with a unanimous 
voice. 4. It was, in fine, of the highest interest for the Refor- 
mation to separate distinctly its cause from that of such an 
unbeliever as Servetus. The Catholic Church, which in our 
day accuses Calvin of having participated in his condemnation, 
much more would have accused him in the sixteenth century 
with having solicited his acquittal." l 

Naturally, Calvin was impatient and irascible. In one of 
his letters to Bucer, he writes, — 

" I have no harder battles against my sins, which are great 
and numerous, than those in which I seek to conquer my im- 
patience. I have not yet gained the mastery over this raging 
beast." 

Calvin died the 27th of May, 1564, in the fifty-fifth year of 
his age. He was of middle stature, pale countenance, brilliant 
eyen, and was extremely abstemious in his habits of living. 
For many years, he partook of but one meal a day. In the 
will which he dictated a short time before his deatr, he called 
God to witness the sincerity of his faith, and rendered thanks 
to him for having employed him in the service of Jesus 
Christ. 

» Tne history of toe Protestants of France, 



TEE REFORMATION. 435 

Philip Melancthon was alike distinguished for his native 
force of character, his intellectual culture, his piety, and his 
amiability. He was born in the palatinate of the Rhine, on 
the 16th of February, 1497. In early boyhood, his progress in 
study, especially in the acquisition of the ancient languages, 
was very extraordinary. At the age of thirteen, he entered the 
University at Heidelberg. Here he so distinguished himself 
by his scholarship, that in one year he tosk the degree of 
bachelor of arts, and became tutor to several of the sons of 
the nobility. In 1512, when fifteen years of age, he repaired 
to the University of Tubingen, where he* devoted himself 
with great assiduity to the study of theology. At the age 
of eighteen he received the degree of master of arts, gave lec- 
tures on the Greek and Latin authors, and published a Greek 
grammar. His erudition and eloquence gave him such celeb- 
rity, that, when twenty-two years of age, he was invited to 
Wittenberg as professor of the Greek language and literature. 
Here he warmly embraced the cause of evangelical truth as 
advocated by the reformers. His sound judgment, rich clas- 
sical taste, ardent piety, and fervid imagination, gave a pecu- 
liar charm to every thing which proceeded from his pen. Bring- 
ing these qualities into alliance with the energy, impetuos- 
ity, and enterprise of Luther, he contributed greatly to the 
spread of the doctrines of the Reformation. His mild spirit in 
some degree softened the rigor of Luther, and his writings 
were universally admired by the Protestant world. Asso- 
ciated with Luther, he drew up the celebrated " Confession " 
of Augsburg in 1530. This, with the "Apology" for it 
which he subsequently composed, gave him renown through 
all Europe. 

" He was nowhere more amiable than in the bosom of his 
family. No one who saw him for the first time would have 
recognized the great reformer in his almost diminutive figure, 
which always continued meagre from his abstemiousness 
and industry. But his high, arched, and open forehead, and 
his bright, handsome eyes, announced the energetic, lively 
mind which this sligjit covering enclosed, and which lighted 



,436 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

up his countenance when he spoke. In his conversation, 
pleasantries were intermingled with the most sagacious re- 
marks; and no one left him without having been instructed 
ana pleased. His ready benevolence, which was the funda- 
mental trait of his character, embraced all who approached 
him. Open and unsuspicious, he always spoke from the heart. 
Piety, a dignified simplicity of manners, generosity, were to 
him so natural, that it was difficult for him to ascribe opposite 
qualities to any man." x 

For nearly half a century, Melancthon was one of the most 
prominent actors in that tremendous conflict between the 
Papal Church and Protestant reform which then agitated all 
Europe. Pew men have been so universally and ardently 
loved. Notwithstanding the vehemence of Luther's character, 
and the mildness of Melancthon's spirit, the friendship between 
these two remarkable men continued unabated through life. 
From all parts of Europe students flocked to Wittenberg, 
lured there by the mental and moral attractions of Melanc- 
thon. 

It is recorded of this illustrious man, that, in the commence- 
ment of his ministry, he fancied that no one could resist the 
glad tidings of the gospel. With powers of eloquence which 
fascinated thronging audiences, he depicted the love of God, 
the joys of heaven, the companionship of angels, — all offered 
to the repentant sinner without money and without price ; but 
the multitudes who listened with delight to his glowing descrip- 
tions and his powerful appeals scattered from the church with no 
disposition manifested to give their hearts to the Saviour, or to 
consecrate their lives to his service. At length, the preacher, 
around whose pulpit the incense of popular applause was con- 
tinually ascending, was heard to say in bitterness of lamenta- 
tion, " Old Adam is too strong for young Melancthon." 

This great and good man died at Wittenberg on the 19th 
of April, 1560, in the sixty-third year of his age. 

Martin Luther has generally been regarded as the father of 
the Reformation. He was certainly one of the greatest men 

* 3&cycloj>5ed& America. 



TBE ^FORMATION. 43? 

of the sixteenth century. He was the son of very poor parents, 
his father being a miner; and was born at Eisleben, Nov. 10, 
1483 Martin's childhood was simply such as was to be 
expected in the home of poor but very religious parents. At 
the age of fourteen he was sent to school at Magdeburg ; but 
his destitution was so great, that he often obtained a few pence, 
which contributed essentially to his support, by singing in the 
streets. Still he made rapid progress in study; and, beiug 
taken under the care of a maternal relation, at the age of 
eighteen he entered the University of Erfurt. Here the close- 
ness of his application and his attainments soon attracted the 
attention of his teachers. 

The Bible at that time was a sealed book to the laity. 
Luther, to his great delight, found a copy in the Latin lan- 
guage in the library of the university. He studied it with the 
utmost diligence, and became so interested in its contents, that 
he resolved to devote himself to the study of divinity. The sud- 
den death of a friend at this time, who fell dead at his side, so 
impressed him with melancholy emotions, that he decided to 
withdraw from the world, and immure himself in the glooms 
of the cloister. Accordingly, he entered the monastery of the 
Augustines at Erfurt in the year 1505, and patiently submitted 
to all the rigors and penances imposed upon him by his supe- 
riors. But he was tortured with a sense of sin : none of his 
self-inflicted sufferings appeased his conscience. His mental 
agitation threw him into severe and dangerous illness. He felt 
that he had no good works upon which he could rely as atone- 
ment for his many infirmities, and his good sense enabled him 
to contemplate with thorough disgust the traffic in indul- 
gences. 

But a gleam of new light dawned upon his mind as one of 
the brothers spoke to him of salvation from sin and its penalty 
through faith in the atonement of Jesus Christ, — salvation 
through faith, and not by works. 

The high intellectual endowments of Luther could not be 
concealed. The provincial of the order released him from the 
menial duties of the cloister that he might devote himself to 



438 HISTORY OF CUEISTIAKItt. 

the study of theology. In 1507 lie was ordained a Catholic 
priest ; and, one year after, was made professor of philosophy in 
the University of Wittenberg. Here his commanding intel- 
lect, and independence of character, collected around him a large 
number of disciples. A visit to Rome in 1510 revealed to 
him the corruption of the clergy, and utterly destroyed hi3 
reverence for the pope. Upon his return to Wittenburg, at 
the age of twenty-nine, Iiq was made a doctor in theology, and 
became a preacher. 

At this time the impudent charlatan Tetzel was traversing 
Germany, peddling out his indulgences. The zeal and indig- 
nation of Luther were aroused: he preached against the out- 
rage vehemently, and published ninety-five propositions, which 
contained an irrefutable attack upon the infamous traffic. The 
propositions were at once declared to be heretical; but no arts 
of flattery, or terrors of menace, could induce the fearless Luther 
to recant. Pamphlet after pamphlet proceeded from his pen, 
assailing the corruptions of the Church ; while thousands gath- 
ered to listen to his bold denunciations from the pulpit. In 
1520 the pope issued a bull of excommunication against Luther 
and his friends, and his writings were publicly burned at Rome, 
Cologne, and Louvain. Luther, unintimidated, publicly burned 
the bull of Papal excommunication at Wittenberg on the 10th 
of December, 1520. 

Several of the German princes, and many of the most illus- 
trious nobles, had embraced the doctrines of Luther ; so that 
he was not left without powerful support. Still the world was 
amazed at the boldness of an obscure monk, who thus ventured 
to bid defiance to the Catholic clergy, to the fanatic emperor 
of Germany, and to the pope himself. Luther was summoned 
by the emperor to appear at the Diet of Worms, and was pro- 
vided with a safe-conduct from his Majesty. Yet his friends 
trembled in fear of his assassination. It was upon this occa- 
sion, when urged not to expose himself to such danger, that he 
gave his memorable reply : — 

" If there were as many devils in Worms as there are tiles 
on the roofs of the houses, I would still go there." 



THE REFORMATION. 439 

As Luther approached Worms, when within three miles of 
the city, a cavalcade of two thousand citizens came out tc 
honor him with their escort. The Emperor Charles V. pre- 
sided at the diet. The body was composed of the Archduke 
Ferdinand, six electors, twenty-four dukes, seven margraves, 
and many piinces, counts, lords, and ambassadors. Luther's 
defence was . considered by his friends unanswerable ; and his 
foes seemed to think that the only reply to be made was by 
the dagger of the assassin. To rescue him from this peril, his 
powerful friends kidnapped him on his return, as we have 
mentioned, and conveyed him to the Castle of Wartburg, 
where for ten months he was concealed. These months of 
retirement he devoted to the translation of the New Testa- 
ment into German. 

But his impetuous spirit chafed to escape from the prison- 
bars which protected him. Through a thousand perils he at 
length returned to Wittenberg, and there commenced anew 
his life of tireless zeal in assailing the corruptions of the 
Church. He drew up a new liturgy for the service of his fol- 
lowers, expurgated of its empty forms ; urged the abolition 
of monasteries, which had mainly become the resort of igno- 
rance and vice ; and trampled under his feet the prejudices of 
papal ecclesiasticism by marrying a nun, Catherine von Bora. 
Luther was forty-two years of age when he took this impor- 
tant step. 

The virtues as well as the imperfections of this extraordi- 
nary man were those of impetuosity, courage, self-reliance, and 
indomitable zeal. He was often very severe. "The severity 
which he used in the defence of his faith by no means dimin- 
ishes. the merit of his constancy. An apology may easily be 
found for the frequent rudeness of his expressions in the pre- 
vailing mode of speaking and thinking ; in the nature of his 
undertaking, which required continual contest; in the provo- 
cations with which he was continually assailed ; in his frequent 
sickness ; and in his excitable imagination." l 

Even the enemies of Luther, who so bitterly censure the 

1 Encyclopaedia Americana. 



440 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

severity often found in his writings, are constrained to admit 
that he was impelled by honest and honorable motives. Lu- 
ther says of himself, — 

" I was born to fight with devils and factions : this is the 
reason that my books are so boisterous and stormy. It is m.j 
business to remove obstructions, to cut down thorns, to fill up 
quagmires, and to open and make straight the paths. But, if 
I must necessarily have some failing, let me rather speak the 
truth with too great severity than once to act the hypocrite, 
and conceal the truth." 

No one can be informed of the amount of labor performed 
by Luther, without astonishment. While preaching several 
times each week, and often every day, conducting a very exten- 
sive and important correspondence with the reformers all over 
Europe, he was one of the most prolific writers of any age, 
and rendered his name immortal by translating the Bible into 
the German language. This latter work alone one would 
deem sufficient to have engrossed the most industrious ener- 
gies for a lifetime. His admirable hymns are still sung in all 
the churches ; and the tune of " Old Hundred," which he com- 
posed, will last while time endures. In the performance of 
such labors, he lived until he was sixty-three years of age. 
Just before he died, he wrote to a friend in the following 
pathetic strain : — 

"Aged, worn out, weary, spiritless, and now blind of one 
eye, I long for a little rest and quietness. Yet I have as 
much to do, in writing and preaching and acting, as if I had 
never written or preached or acted. I am weary of the world, 
and the world is weary of me. The parting will be easy, like 
that of the guest leaving the inn. I pray only that God will- 
be gracious to me in my last hour, and I shall quit the world 
without reluctance." 

A few days after writing the above, Martin Luther died, at 
Eisleben, — on the 18th of February, 1546. He was buried in 
the Castle Church at Wittenberg. 

John Wickliffe is often called "the morning star" of the 
Beformation. He was born in Yorkshire; England; about the 



THE REFORMATION. ■ 441 

year 1324. In his earliest years he developed unusual mental 
endowments, and graduated at Queen's College, Oxford, with 
high honors. At the age of thirty-two he published a treatise 
upon " The Last Age of the Church," in which he ventured 
to assail some of the assumptions of the pope, and severely to 
attack the encroachments of the mendicant friars. In 1372, 
Wickliffe, having received the title of D.D., delivered lectures 
on theology at Oxford with great applause. At that time a 
controversy was beginning to arise between the pope and Ed- 
ward III., King of England. Edward, sustained by his par- 
liament, refused to submit to the vassalage which the pope had 
exacted of his predecessors. "Wickliffe with his pen very suc- 
cessfully defended the position taken by the king. He thus 
secured the favor of his monarch, but exasperated the pope, 
Gregory XL Wickliffe was accused of heresy. The pope 
issued a bull, and nineteen articles of alleged false doctrine 
were drawn up against him. Gregory issued three bulls ad- 
dressed to the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of 
London, ordering the seizure and imprisonment of Wickliffe. 

In the mean time, Edward III. had died ; but the British 
court and the populace of London rallied so enthusiastically 
around Wickliffe, that no judgment could be taken against 
him. Soon after this, Gregory XL died ; and all proceedings 
against the English reformer were dropped. But the zeal of 
Wickliffe was thoroughly aroused; and, encouraged by the pow- 
erful support he received from the British court and from the 
people, he assailed with increasing freedom the exorbitant 
pretensions of the court of Rome. Speaking of his labors, 
Mcintosh says, — 

u The new opinions on religion which now arose mingled 
with the general spirit of Christianity in promoting the prog- 
ress of emancipation, and had their share in the few disor- 
ders which accompanied it. Wickliffe, the celebrated reformer, 
had become one of the most famous doctors of the English 
Church. His lettered education rendered him no stranger to 
the severity with which Dante and Chaucer had lashed the vices 
of the clergy without sparing the corruptions of the Boman see 



442 



HISTORY OF CHRISTlANiTT. 



itself. His theological learning and mystical piety led liim 
to reprobate the whole system of wealth and worldliness, by 
which a blind bounty had destroyed the apostolical simplicity 
and primitive humility of the Christian religion." 

This eminent man, who in the end of the fourteenth century 
commenced the assault upon the corruptions of the court of 
Rome, died of a paralytic stroke on the 31st December, 1384. 
His doctrine end his spirit survived him, and paved the way 
for the final and entire separation of the Church of England 
from that of Rome. The exasperation which his writings 
created in the bosoms of the advocates of the Papacy may be 
inferred from the fact, that in the year 1425, forty-one years 
after his death, the Council of Constance pronounced his writ- 
ings heretical, and ordered his bones to be taken up and 
burned ; which sentence was executed. 

John Knox, who was the mest distinguished of the advo- 
cates cf the Reformation in Scotland, was barn of an ancient 
family, at Ginbrd, East Lothian, in 150o. In early youth 
he took the degree of master of arts at St. Andrew's, and 
entered upon the study of theology. He soon became weary 
of studying the dogmas taught in the Catholic schools, and 
eagerly sought light in the plainer precepts of a more common- 
sense and practical philosophy. Thus instructed, he aban- 
doned all thoughts of officiating in the Church of Rome, whose 
pageants and encroachments, both secular and ecclesiastical, 
disgusted him. Some of the doctrines of the reformers had 
already penetrated Scotland. Two of the lords who had em- 
braced these principles employed him as tutor t.o their sons. 
Here he preached, not only to his pupils, but to others, who 
were drawn in ever-increasing numbers by his fervid elo- 
quence. 

The Catholic Church was still an immense power in Scot- 
land ; and Cardinal Beaton, Archbishop of St. Andrew's, com- 
menced proceedings against Knox, which compelled him to 
take shelter in the Castle of St. Andrew's. Here, under power- 
ful protection, he continued boldly to preach the principles of 
the Reformation, notwithstanding the hostility of the Papal 



THE REFORMATION. 443 

priesthood. In July, 1547, the Castle of St. Andrew's capitu- 
lated to the French, with whom Scotland was then at -war. 
Knox was taken captive, and was carried with the garrison to 
France, where he remained a prisoner on board the galleys foi 
nearly two years. Upon being released, he returned to Lon- 
don, where he recommenced preaching as an itinerant, with 
vehement eloquence which gave him thronged audiences 
wherever he w=nt. 

Upon the accession of Mary, a fanatic Catholic, to the throne 
of England, the most sanguinary laws were revived against 
the reformers. Knox fled to Geneva, and was soon invited to 
become the minister to a colony of English refugees at Frank- 
fort. Not with star iirg the persecution by Mary, the advocates 
of the reformed religion, both in England and Scotland, rapidly 
increased, so that in 1555 Knox ventured to revisit his native 
land, and preached with increasing energy and boldness. His 
fearlessness w T on fordiim the admiration of his friends, and the 
execration of his foes. Knox being at one time absent on a 
visit to Geneva, the Papal bishops condemned him to death as 
a heretic, and burned him in effigy at the stake at Edinburgh. 
Knox drew up an energetic remonstrance against this condem- 
nation of a man absent and unheard, and published a pam- 
phlet, written in his most furious style of eloquence, entitled, 
" The First Blast of a Trumpet against the Monstrous Begimen 
of Women." This violent pamphlet was aimed at Bloody 
Mary, Queen of England, and Mary of Lorraine, widow of 
James V., Queen- Regent of Scotland. 

But the shaft aimed at Mary the Papist pierced the bosom 
of Elizabeth, a Protestant queen who succeeded her. Thi.s 
haughty princess could not forgive a man who had written a 
diatribe against the "monstrous regimen of women." But 
Knox, surrounded by menaces, and in constant peril of lib- 
erty and life, continued fearlessly to assail the corruptions 
of the Church. Though the Papal powers in Scotland were 
sustained by the armies of Catholic France, — for Mary of 
Lorraine was sister of the powerful Duke of Guise, — still, 
marshalled under so dauntless a leader as Knox, the reform- 



444 HISTORY OF CBBISTUmTf. 

ers of Scotland advanced from victory to victory. At one time 
lie so inflamed the populace by a vehement harangue against 
idolatry, that the excited multitude broke into the churches, 
destroyed the altars, tore the pictures to shreds, dashed the 
images into fragments, and levelled several monasteries with 
the ground. These lawless proceedings were severely censured 
by the prominent men of the reform party in Scotland, and 
by the leaders of the Reformation throughout Europe. 

Protestant England sent an army to aid the Protestants in 
Scotland. The Papal queen-regent Mary, with her army of 
French supporters, was driven from the kingdom ; the Scottish 
parliament was re-established, the majority of the members 
having embraced Protestant opinions ; the old Papal courts 
were abolished ; the exercise of religious worship according to 
the rites of the Roman Church was prohibited, and the doctrine 
and discipline of the Presbyterian Church established as the 
religion of the realm. 

In August, 1561, the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, 
arrived in Scotland to reign in her own right. She was a zeal- 
ous Catholic, and immediately commenced measures to re-estab- 
lish the religion of Rome throughout her dominions. Knox, 
from the pulpit, opened warfare upon the queen and her parti- 
sans with consummate ability, and with intrepidity which never 
flinched from any danger. Upon the marriage of the queen 
with the youthful Darnley, Knox declared from the pulpit, — 

"God, in punishment for our ingratitude and sins, has 
appointed women and boys to reign over us." 

At length, worn out with incessant toil and anxiety, and 
shocked by the tidings of the massacre of St. Bartholomew, 
he took to his bed, and died Nov. 24, 1572, in the sixty-seventh 
year of his age. The most distinguished men in Scotland 
attended his funeral, paying marked honor to his memory. 
As his body was lowered into the grave, Earl Morton, then 
Regent of Scotland, said, — 

" There lies one who never feared the face of man ; who 
hath been often threatened with dag and dagger, and yet hath 
ended his days in peace and honor j for he had God's provi- 



THE -REFORMATION. 445 

dence watching over him in an especial manner when his life 
was sought." 

Robertson the historian, commenting upon the character of 
this illustrious reformer, remarks, with obvious truthfulness, 
that the severity of his deportment, his impetuosity of temper, 
and zealous intolerance, were qualities which, though they ren- 
dered him less amiable, fitted him to advance the Reformation 
among a fierce people, and to surmount opposition to which a 
more gentle spirit would have yielded. 1 

It is pleasant to turn from these scenes of sin and misery to 
a beautiful exemplification of true piety, — a spirit of devotion 
to God so true, that it is scarcely sullied by the errors and 
imperfections of an age of darkness. 

In every denomination you can find those who are a dis- 
grace to the cause of Christ. There was a Judas even among 
the apostles. In every Christian denomination you will find 
those who are burning and shining lights in the world ; who 
live the life of the righteous, die the death of the righteous, 
and go home to glory. 

About a hundred and sixty years ago, there was in the heart 
of Germany a young duchess, Eleonora, residing in the court 
of her father Philip, the elector palatine. In childhood she 
became a Christian, — an earnest and warm-hearted Christian. 
Guided by the teachings of her spiritual instructors, who, 
though doubtless sincere, had ingrafted upon the precepts of 
the Bible the traditions and superstitions of that dark age, she 
was taught to deprive herself of almost every innocent grati- 
fication, and to practise upon her fragile frame all the severi- 
ties of an anchorite. Celibacy was especially commended to 
her as a virtue peculiarly grateful to God; and she conse- 
quently declined all solicitations for her hand. 

Leopold, the widowed emperor of Germany, sent a magnifi- 
cent retinue to the palace of the grand elector, and solicited 
Eleonora for his bride. It was the most brilliant match 
Europe could furnish ; but Eleonora, notwithstanding all the 
importunities of her parents, rejected the proffered crown, 

* Encyclopaedia Americana, 



446 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

As the emperor urged his plea, the conscientious mr.iden, 
that she might render herself personally unattractive to him, 
neglected her dress, and exposed herself, unhonneted, to the 
sun and wind. She thus succeeded in repelling his suit ; and 
the emperor married Claudia of Tyrol. 

The elector palatine was one of the most powerful of the 
minor princes of Europe ; and his court, in gayety and splen- 
dor, rivalled even that of the emperor. Eleonora was com- 
pelled to be a prominent actor in the gorgeous saloons of her 
father's palace, and to mingle with the festive throng in all 
their pageants of pleasure. 

But her heart was elsewhere.. Several hours every day 
were devoted to prayer and religious reading. She kept a 
minute journal, in which she scrupulously recorded and con- 
demned her failings. She visited the sick in lowly cottages, 
and with her own hands performed the most self-denying 
duties required at the bedside of pain and death. 

After the lapse of three years, Claudia died ; and again the 
widowed emperor sought the hand of Eleonora. Her spiritual 
advisers now urged that it was her duty to accept the imperial 
alliance, since upon the throne she could render herself so 
useful in extending the influence of the Church. Promptly 
she yielded to the voice of duty, and, charioted in splendor, 
was conveyed a bride to Vienna. 

But her Christian character remained unchanged. She 
carried the penance and self-sacrifice of the cloister into the 
voluptuousness of the palace. The imperial table was loaded 
with ever}' luxury ; but Eleonora, the empress, drank only 
cold water, and ate of fare as humble as could be found in any 
peasant's hut. On occasions of state, it was needful that she 
should be dressed in embroidered robes of purple and gold ; 
but, to prevent any possibility of the risings of pride, her 
dress and jewelry were so arranged with sharp brass pricking 
the flesh, that she was kept in a state of constant discomfort. 
Thus she endeavored, while discharging with the utmost fidelity 
the duties of awife and an empress, to be ever reminded that 
life is but probation. 






TEE JREFORMATION. 447 

These mistaken austerities, caused by the darkness of the 
age, only show how sincere was her consecration to God. 
When Eleonora attended the opera with the emperor, she toolr 
with her the Psalms of David, bcund to represent the hooks of 
the performance, and thus unostentatiously endeavored to shield 
her mind from the profane and indelicate allusions with vhich 
the -operas of those daj^s were filled, and from which, as yet, 
they are by no means purified. 

She translated the Psalms and several other devotional books 
into German verse for the benefit of her subjects. She was 
often seen, with packages of garments and baskets of food, 
entering the cottages of the poor peasantry around her country 
palace, ministering like an angel of mercy to all their wants. 

At length her husband, the emperor, was taken sick. Eleo- 
nora watched at his pillow with all the assiduity of a Sister of 
Charity : she hardly abandoned her post for a moment, by day 
or b}' night, until, with her own hands, she closed his eyes as 
he slept in death. 

Eleonora survived her husband fifteen years, devoting her- 
self through all this period to the instruction of the ignorant, 
to nursing the sick, to feeding and clothing. the poor. All pos- 
sible luxury she discarded, and endeavored as closely as possi- 
ble to imitate her Saviour, who had not where to lay his head. 

Her death was like the slumber of a child who falls asleep 
upon its mother's bosom. At her express request, her funeral 
was unattended with any display. She directed that there 
should be inscribed upon her tombstone simply the words, — 

"Eleonora, — a Poor Sinner." 

This brief narrative shows very truly what is the true 
nature of religion, — the religion of Jesus. It shows its spirit, 
independently of all external customs and manners. No one 
can doubt that Eleonora was a Christian ; and yet we can all 
see. that, in that dark age, she was not well instructed. She 
practised austerities which Jesus does not require ; and yet 
who can doubt the cordiality of her welcome at the celestial 
gates ? 



448 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

She took up a far heavier cross than any which the disciples 
of Jesus are ordinarily required to lift. She simply did what 
she thought it her duty to do as a disciple of Jesus. And 
now, for a century and a half, she has been an "angel in 
heaven ; and she finds that all these light afflictions of her 
earthly life have indeed worked out for her a far more exceed- 
ing and eternal weight of glory. 

Mothers and daughters, Jesus loves you; he loves you with 
inconceivable love. He has died to redeem you. He now 
lives to intercede for you. With tearful eyes he says, " How 
can I give thee up ? My daughter, give me thy heart : come 
unto me, and be saved." 

He is ready to meet you at the celestial gates, and to give 
you a cordial welcome. He is ready to lead you to the heav- 
enly mansion, and to say, " This is your home forever." He is 
ready to introduce you to angel-companionship, that you may, 
through endless ages, share their songs and their everlasting 

joy. 



CHAPTER XXIIL 



THE MASSACRE OP ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 



Principles of the trro Parties. — Ferdinand's Appeal to the Pope. — The Celibacy 
of the Clergy. — Maximilian. — His Protection of tbe Protestants. — The Ref- 
ormation in France. — Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre. — Proposed Mar- 
riage of Henry of Navarre and Marguerite of France. — Perfidy of Catharine 
de Medici. — The Nuptials. — The Massacre of St. Bartholomew. — Details of 
its Horrors. — Indignation of Protestant Europe. — Death of Charles IX. 



HE Papal party was mainly a political party, con- 
sisting of those who were rioting in possession 
of despotic power. They considered the Protes- 
tant religion as peculiarly hostile to despotism 
in the encouragement it afforded to education, to 
the elevation of the masses, and to the diffusion 
of those principles of fraternal equality which 
Christ enjoined. Thp Catholic religion was considered the 
great bulwark of kingly power, constraining, by all the terrors 
of superstition, the benighted multitudes to submit to civil 
intolerance. 

Ferdinand I., brother of Charles V., was king of the two 
realms of Hungary and Bohemia. He devoted all his ener- 
gies to eradicating the doctrines of the Reformation from his 
domains : the most rigorous censorship of the press was estab- 
lished, and no foreign work, unexamined, was permitted to 
enter his realms ; the fanatic order of Jesuits was encouraged 
by royal patronage, and intrusted with the education of the 
young. 

Still Protestantism was making rapid strides through Europe. 

29 449 




450 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

It had become the domina at religion in Denmark and Sweden, 
and was firmly established in England by the accession of 
Elizabeth to the throne : in "France, also, the reformed religion 
had made extensive inroads, gathering to its defence many of 
the noblest in rank and intellect in the realm : in Spain and 
Portugal, the terrors of the Inquisition had checked the progress 
of religious truth. 

Ferdinand, King of Hungary and Bohemia, as Archduke of 
Austria, inherited the Austrian States, and thus became virtu- 
ally the founder of the Austrian monarchy. The majority of 
the inhabitants of the Austrian States had become Protes- 
tants. They were so strong in intelligence, rank, and numbers, 
that Ferdinand did not dare to attempt to crush them with a 
merciless hand; though he threw every obstacle he could in the 
way of Protestant worship, forbidding the circulation of Lu- 
ther's translation of the Bible. The Protestants insisted that 
communicants at the Lord's Supper should receive both the 
bread and the wine : this the Papal court vehemently rejected. 
Ferdinand was in favor of granting this concession : he wrote 
to the pope, — 

"In Bohemia, no persuasion, no argument, no violence, not 
even arms and war, have succeeded in abolishing the use of the 
wine as well as the bread in the sacrament. If this is granted, 
they may be re-united to the Church ; but, if refused, they will 
be driven into the party of the Protestants. So many priests 
have been degraded by their diocesans for administering the 
sacrament in both kinds, that the country is almost deprived 
of priests. Hence children die or grow up tc maturity with- 
out baptism ; and men and women of all ages and of all ranks 
live, like the brutes, in the grossest ignorance of Q j& and of 
religion." 

The celibacy of the clergy was another point upon which 
the Protestants were at issue with the Papal councils. Upon 
this subject Ferdinand wrote to the pope in the following very 
sensible terms : — 

"If a permission to the clergy to be married cannot be 
granted, may not married men of teaming and probity be 



THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 451 

ordained, according to the custom of the Eastern Church ; or 
married priests be tolerated for a time, provided that they act 
according to the Catholic or Christian faith ? And it may bo 
justly asked whether such concessions would not be far prefera- 
ble to tolerating, as has unfortunately been done, fornication 
and concubinage. I cannot avoid adding, what is s common 
observation, that priests who live ir concubinage are guilty of 
greater sin than those who are married ; for the last only trans- 
gress a law which is capable or being changed, whereas the 
first sin against a divine law which is capable of neither change 
nor dispensation." 

The pope, thus pressed by the importunity of Ferdinand, 
reluctantly consented to the administration of the cup to the 
laity in his domains, but resolutely refused to tolerate the mar- 
riage of the clergy. Ferdinand was so chagrined by this obsti- 
nacy, which rendered any conciliation between the antagonistic 
parties in his State impossible, that he was thrown into a fever, 
of which he died on the 25th of July, 1564. 

The eldest son of Ferdinand succeeded to the throne of the 
Austrian monarchy with the title of Maximilian II. He 
appears to have been a truly good man, — a sincere disciple 
of Jesus, of enlarged and cultivated mind. Though he adhered 
nominally to the Catholic faith, he was the consistent and self- 
sacrificing friend of the Protestants. Before his accession to 
the crown he appointed a clergyman of the Protestant faith 
for his chaplain, and received the sacrament in both kinds 
from his hands. When warned that by such a course he 
could never hope to win the imperial crown of Germany, he 
replied, — 

"I will sacrifice all worldly interests for the sake of my 
salvation." 

His father threatened to disinherit him if he did not 
renounce all connection with the Protestants. 

But this noble man, true to the teaching* of his conscience, 
would not allow the loss of a crown to induce him to swerve 
from his faith. In anticipation of disinheritance, and banish- 
ment from the kingdom, he wrote tc the Protestant elector 
palatine, — 



452 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

"I have so deeply offended nay father by maintaining a 
Lutheran preacher in my service, that I am apprehensive of 
being expelled as a fugitive, and hope to find an asylum in 
your court." 

Though Maximilian, upon succeeding to the throne, main- 
tained in his court the usages of the Papal Church, he re- 
mained the kind friend of the Protestants, ever seeking to 
shield them from persecution, claiming for them a liberal tol- 
eration, and endeavoring in all ways to promote fraternal 
religious feeling throughout his domains. 

The prudence of Maximilian greatly allayed the bitterness 
of religious strife in Germany, while other portions of Europe 
were desolated with the fiercest warfare between the Catholics 
and the Protestants. In France particularly, the conflict 
raged with rne*ciless fury. John Calvin soon became the 
recognized head of reformation there. 

Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre, was a Protestant. Her 
husband was a Catholic. They had one son, — Henry, subse- 
quently Henry IV. of France. Gradually the strife between 
Catholics and Protestants became so fierce, that all Europe was 
in arms, — the Catholics combining to annihilate the Protes- 
tants, the Protestants arming for self-protection. Anthony of 
Bourbon, Duke of Vendome, the husband of the Queen of Na- 
varre, and father of Henry IV., abandoned his Protestant wife 
and his child, and placed himself at the head of the Catholic 
armies. The Queen of Navarre, the most illustrious Protestant 
sovereign on the Continent, was then recognized as the head of 
the Protestant armies. Henry, her son, following the example 
of his noble Christian mother, espoused the same cause. 

The kingdom of Navarre, a territory of wild ravines and 
majestic swells of land, often rising into towering mountains 
upon the northern slope of the Pyrenees, bordered France 
upon the south : its annexation to France was deemed impor- 
tant by the French court. An impotent, characterless, worth- 
less boy, Charles IX., was nominally king of France : his 
mother, the infamous Catharine de Medici, was the real 
sovereign. She was as fanatic;^, as cruel, as wicked a woman 



THE MASSACRE OF ST. BAUTEOtOMEW. 453 

as ever breathed. History, perhaps, records not another 
instance where a mother did every thing in her power to 
plunge her own son into every species of debauchery, that she 
might enfeeble him in body and in mind, so as to enable her 
to retain the supreme power. 

This vile woman had a daughter, Marguerite, as infamous 
as herself. That Navarre might be annexed to France, the 
plan was formed of uniting in marriage Henry and Margue- 
rite, the heirs of the two thrones. The scheme was formed by 
the statesmen of the two countries. Henry and Marguerite, 
though thoroughly detesting each other, made no objection to 
the arrangement, which would promote their mutual ambition. 
The marriage-tie had no sacredness for either of them. Cath- 
arine was delighted with the arrangement; for she had forme 1 
the plan of inviting all the leaders of the Protestant party to 
Paris to attend the nuptials, and there to assassinate them. Ou: 
of respect to their devoted friend, the Protestant Queen of 
Navarre, and her Protestant son, they would be all likely to 
attend. The leaders being all thus assembled in Paris, she 
would have them entirely at her disposal. Then, having cut 
off the leaders, in the consternation which would ensue, she 
would, by a wide-spread conspiracy, have the Protestant popu- 
lation throughout all France — men, women, and children — 
put to death. 

With measureless hypocrisy, feigning the highest satisfac- 
tion in prospect of the union of the Catholics and the Protes- 
tants, Catharine sent very affectionate messages to the nobles, 
and' all the men of prominence of the reformed faith, begging 
that there might be no more hostility between them. She 
entreated them to attend the nuptials, and assured them of 
the high gratification with which she contemplated the mar- 
riage of her daughter with a Protestant prince, who was thus 
destined to become king of France. 

While plotting the details of perhaps the most horrible 
massacre earth has ever known, she did every thing in hex 
power to lull her unsuspecting victims into security. The 
Queen of Navarre and her son were invited to the Castle of 



454 niSTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Blois to make arrangements for the wedding. They were 
received by Catharine, and her weal:, depraved son, Charles 
IX., with extravagant displays of affection. The Protestant 
nobles and influential clergy flocked to Paris. The Admiral 
Coligni, one of the most illustrious of men in all excellences 
of character, was received as the special guest of the king and 
his mother. He was unquestionably the most influential man 
in the Protestant party in France. His death would prove 
an irreparable blow to the cause of reform. Some .of his 
friends urged him not to place himself in the power of so 
treacherous a woman as Catharine de Medici. 

" I confide," said the noble admiral, " in the sacred word 
of his Majesty." 

The admiral, as he entered the palace, was greeted with 
lavish caresses by both mother and son. The king threw 
his arms around the admiral's neck, and hugged him in an 
Iscariot embrace, saying, "This is the happiest day of my 
life." 

At length, the nuptial morn arrived. It was the 15th of 
August, 1572. The unimpassioned bridegroom led his scorn- 
ful bride to the Church of Notre Dame. Before the mas- 
sive portals of this renowned cathedral, and beneath the 
shadow of its venerable towers, a magnificent platform had 
been reared, canopied with gorgeous tapestry. Hundreds of 
thousands thronged the surrounding amphitheatre, swarming 
at the windows, and crowding the balconies and the house- 
tops. 

The gentle breeze, breathing over the multitude, was laden 
with the perfume of flowers. Banners, pennants, and ribbons, 
of every varied hue, waved in the air, or hung in gay festoon* 
from window to window, and from roof to roof. 

Upon that conspicuous platform Henry received the hand 
of the haughty princess, and the nuptial oath was adminis- 
tered. Marguerite however, even in that hour and in the 
presence of all those spectators, gave a ludicrous exhibition of 
her girlish petulance and her ungoverned wilfulness. When, 
in the progress of the ceremony, she was asked if she will- 



T3E MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 455 

ingly received Henry of l^avarre for her husband, a sudden 
freak of perversion seized her. She pouted, coquettishly tossed 
her proud little head, and was silent. The question was re- 
peated. The spirit of Marguerite was now up, and all the 
powers of Europe could not give pliancy to the shrew. 

The question was again repeated. She fixed her eyes defi- 
antly upon the officiating bishop, and, refusing byword or ges- 
ture to give the slightest assent, remained as immovable as 
a statue. Embarrassment and delay ensued. There was a 
pause in the ceremony ; and every eye was fixed, in wonder as 
to what would be the result. 

Suddenly the king, Marguerite's brother, who with his court 
was conspicuously seated upon the platform, fully conscious 
of his sister's indomitable spirit, quietly walked up to the ter- 
magant at bay, and placing one hand upon her bosom, and the 
other upon the back of her head, compelled an involuntary nod. 
The bishop smiled and bowed, and acting upon the politic 
principle, that small favors are gratefully received, proceeded 
with the ceremony. Such were the vows with which Henry 
of Navarre and Marguerite of France were united. Such is 
too often love in the palace. 

We must now pass by the festival-days which ensued, and 
turn from the nuptials to the massacre. Admiral Coligni, 
anxious to return home, called at the Louvre to take leave of 
the king. As he was passing through the streets to the lodg- 
ings which had been . provided for him, two bullets from the 
pistol of an assassin pierced his bod}'. His friends bore him 
bleeding to his apartment. Though the king and queen 
feigned great indignation, the evidence was conclusive that 
they had instigated the crime. The Protestants were thunder- 
struck. All their leaders had been lured to Paris ; and there 
they were, — caught in a trap, unarmed, separated from their 
followers, and helpless. Henry of Navarre immediately has- 
tened to the bedside of his revered and wounded friend. 
While he was sitting there, Catharine and Charles were delib- 
erating whether Henry himself should be included in the 
general massacre. After much debate, it was decided to spare 



456 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

him, as he would be* powerless after all the Protestants were 
cold in death. 

The Duke of Guise led the movement of the Catholics. 
Troops had been stationed at all the important positions in 
Paris, and the Catholic population had been secretly armed. 
The Catholics were enjoined to wear a white cross upon the 
hat, that they might be distinguished. The conspiracy ex- 
tended throughout the whole of France, and the storm of 
death was to bur'st at the same moment upon the unsuspect- 
ing victims in every city and village of the kingdom. 

While Catharine and Charles were arranging the details for 
the massacre, they employed all their arts of duplicity to dis- 
arm ruspicion. The very evening of the fatal night, the king 
invited many of the most illustrious of his victims to a sump- 
tuous entertainment at the Louvre. In a fine glow of spirits 
he detained them until a late hour with his pleasantries, and 
induced several to remain in the palace to sleep, that they 
might be slain beneath his own roof. 

The conspiracy had been kept a profound secret from Mar- 
guerite, lest she should betray it to her husband. In the 
mean time, aided by the gloom of a starless night, preparations 
were making in every street of Paris for the enormous perpe- 
tration. Soldiers were assembling at their appointed rendez- 
vouses. Guards were stationed to cut off flight. Fanatic men, 
armed with sabres and muskets which gleamed in the lamp- 
light, began to emerge through the darkness, and to gather in 
motley assemblage. Many houses were illuminated, that, by 
the blaze from the windows, the bullet might be thrown with 
precision, and the dagger might strike an unerring blow. 

Catharine and her son Charles were now in one of the 
apartments of the Louvre, waiting for the clock to strike the 
hour of two, when the signal was to be given. Catharine, 
inexorable in crime, was very apprehensive that her son might 
ielent. Petulant and self-willed, he was liable to paroxysms 
of stubbornness, when he spurned his mother's counsels. 

Weak as well as depraved, the wretched king was feverishly 
excited. He paced the room nervously, peering out at the 



THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 457 

window, looking at his watch, wishing yet dreading to have 
the appointed hour arrive. His mother, witnessing these indi- 
cations of a faltering spirit, urged him to order the alarm- 
bell immediately to he struck, which was to he the signal for 
the massacre to commence. Charles hesitated, and a cold 
sweat oozed from his brow. 

" Are you a coward ? " tauntingly inquired the fiend-like 
mother. 

This is a charge which no coward can stand. It almost 
always nerves the poltroon to action. The young king ner- 
vously exclaimed, "Well, then, let it begin!" There were in 
the room at the time only Catharine, Charles, and his brother, 
the Duke of Anjou. It was two hours after midnight. 
There was a moment of dreadful suspense and of perfect 
silence. All three stood at the window, in the Palace of the 
Louvre, looking out into the rayless night. 

Suddenly through the still air the ponderous tones of the 
alarm-bell fell upon the ear, and rolled the kneil of death over 
the city. The vibration awakened the demon in ten thousand 
hearts. It was the morning of the sabbath, Aug. 24, 1572, — 
the anniversary of the festival of St. Bartholomew. 

The first stroke of the bell had not ceased to "vibrate upon 
the ear when the uproar of the carnage commenced. The 
sound, which seemed to rouse Catharine to ^venzy, almost froze 
the blood of the young monarch. Trembling in every nerve, 
he shouted for the massacre to be stopped. 

It was too late : the train was fired. Beacon-fires and 
alarm-bells sent the signal with the rapidity of light and of 
sound through entire France. The awful roar of human pas- 
sion, the crackling of musketry, the shrieks of the wounded 
and of the dying, blended in appalling tumult throughout the 
whole metropolis. Old men, terrified maidens, helpless infants, 
venerable matrons, were alike smitten down mercilessly to 
the fanatic cry of " Vive Dieu et le Eoi ! " — " Live God and 
the King!" 

The Admiral Coligni, who had been shot and desperately 
wounded the day before, faint and dying, was lying upon his 



458 BISTORT OP CHRISTIANITY. 

bed, surrounded by a few faithful friends, as the demoniac 
.clamor rolled in upon their ears. The Duke of Guise, a 
fanatic Papist, with three hundred followers, hastened to the 
lodgings of the admiral, stabbed the sentinels, and burst 
through the gates. A wounded servant rushed to the chamber 
of the admiral, exclaiming, — 

"The house is forced; and there are no means of resist- 
ing!" 

" I have long," said the heroic Christian admiral, " prepared 
myself to die. Save yourselves if yon can : you cannot 
defend me. I commend my soul to God." 

The murderers were now rushing up the stairs. They 
pursued, shot,, stabbed, and cut down the flying friends of 
Coligni. The admiral, thus for a moment left alone, rose from 
his bed, and, being unable to stand, leaned against the wall, 
and, in fervent prayer, surrendered himself to the will of his 
Maker. The assassins burst into the room. They saw a 
venerable man in his night-robe, with bandaged wounds, en- 
gaged in his devotions. 

" Art thou ihe admiral ? " demanded one with brandished 
sword. 

" I am," replied Coligni ; " and thou, young man, shouldst 
respect my gray hairs. Nevertheless, thou canst abridge my 
life but a little." 

The wretch plunged his sword into the bosom of Coligni, 
and then, withdrawing it dripping with blood, cut him down. 
The admiral fell, calmly saying. — 

" If I could but die by the hand of a gentleman, instead 
of by the hands of such a knave as this ! " 

The rest of the assassins immediately fell upon him, each 
emulous to bury his dagger in the bosom of his victim. The 
Duke of Guise, ashamed to encounter the eye of the noble 
Coligni, whom he had often met in friendly intercourse, re- 
mained impatiently in the courtyard below. 

" Breme ! " he shouted to one of his followers, looking up to 
the window, "have you done it?" 

" Yes," Breme replied : " lie is done for." 




THE MURDERERS WERE NOW RUSHING UP THE STAIRS. 



TBE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 459 

" Let us see, though," replied the duke : " throw him out 
of the window ! " 

The mangled corpse fell heavily upon the paving-stones. 
The duke wiped the hlood from the lifeless face, and, carefully 
scrutinzing the features, said, " Yes : I recognize the man." 
Then, giving the pallid face a kick, he exclaimed, " Courage, 
comrades ! we have happily begun. Let us now go for 
others. 1 ' 

The tiger, having once lapped his tongue in hlood, -<eems 
to be imbued with a new spirit of ferocity. Theie is in man 
a similar temper : the frenzied multitude became drunk with 
blood. The houses of the Protestants were marked. The 
assassins burst open the doors, and rushed through all apart- 
ments, murdering indiscriminately young and old, — men, 
women, and children. The gory bodies were thrown from the 
windows, and the pavements were clotted with blood. 

Charles soon recovered from his momentary wavering, and,~ 
conscious that it was too late to draw back, with fiend-like 
eagerness engaged himself in the work of death. Fury seized 
him : his cheeks were flushed, his lips compressed, and his 
eyes glared with frenzy. Bending eagerly from his window, 
he shouted words of encouragement to the assassins. Grasp- 
ing a gun, he watched like n sportsman for his prey : and 
when he saw an unfortunate Protestant, wounded and bleed- 
ing, flying from his pursuers, he would take deliberate aim 
from the window of his palace, and shout with exultation as 
he saw him fall pierced by his bullet. 

A crowd of fugitives rushed into the courtyard of the 
Louvre to throw themselves upon the protection of the king. 
Charles sent his own body-guard into the yard with guns and 
daggers to butcher them all. 

Just before the carnage commenced, Marguerite, oppressed 
with fears of she knew not what, retired to her chamber. She 
had hardly closed her eyes when the outcry of the pursuers 
and the pursued filled the palace. She sprang up in her bed, 
and heard some one struggling at the door, and shrieking 
" Navarre ! Navarre ! " 



L60 BISTORT OF CEMST1AX1TY. 

The door was burst open ; and one of her husband's attend- 
ants rushed in. covered with wounds and blood, and pursued 
by four soldiers of her brother's guard. The captain of the 
guard at that moment entered the room, pursuing his victim. 

Marguerite, almost insane with terror, fled to the chamber 
of her sister. The palace was filled with shouts and shrieks 
and uproar. As she was rushing through the hall, she 
encountered another Protestant gentleman flying before the 
crimsoned sword of his pursuers : he was covered with blood 
flowing from many ghastly gashes. Just as he reached the 
young Queen of Navarre, his pursuer plunged a sword through 
his body ; and he fell dead at her feet. 

No tongue can tell the horrors of that night: it would 
require volumes to detail its scenes. While the carnage was in 
progress, a body of soldiers entered the chamber of Henry of 
Navarre, and conveyed him to the presence of the king. The 
imbecile monarch, with blasphemous oaths and a countenance 
inflamed with fury, ordered him to abandon Protestantism, or 
prepare to die. Henry, to save his life, in gloriously yielded, 
and, by similar compulsion, was induced to send an edict to his 
own dominions, prohibiting the exercise of any religion but 
that of Pome. 

When the gloom of night had passed, and the sabbath sun 
dawned upon Paris, a spectacle was witnessed such as even 
that blood-renowned metropolis has seldom presented. The 
city still resounded with tumult; the pavements were gory, 
and covered with the dead ; men, women, and children were 
still flying in every direction, wounded and bleeding, pursued 
by merciless assassins, riotous with demoniac laughter, and 
drunk with blood. 

The report of guns and pistols, and of continued volleys of 
musketry, from all parts of the city, proved the universality of 
the massacre. Miserable wretches, smeared with blood, swag- 
gered along with ribald jests and fiend-like bowlings, hunting 
for the Protestants ; corpses, torn and gory, strewed the streets, 
and dissevered heads were spurned like footballs along the 
oavements ; priests in sacerdotal robes, and with elevated cru- 



THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW, 461 

cifixes, urged their emissaries not to grow weary in the work 
of exterminating God's enemies ; the most distinguished noblea 
of the court and of the camp rode through the streets with 
gorgeous retinue, encouraging the massacre. 

" Let not one single Protestant be spared," the king pro 
claimed, "to reproach me hereafter with this deed." 

Charles, with his mother and the high-born profligate ladies' 
who disgraced the court, emerged in the morning light in splen 
did array into the reeking streets. Many of the women con- 
templated with merriment the dead bodies piled up before the 
Louvre. One of the ladies, however, appalled by the spectacle, 
wished to retire, alleging that the bodies already emitted an 
offensive odor. Charles brutally replied, — 

" The smell of a dead enemy is always pleasant ! " 

The massacre was continued in the city and throughout the 
kingdom for a week. On Thursday, after four days spent in 
hunting out the fugitives from all their hiding-places, the 
Catholic clergy paraded the streets of Paris in a triumphal 
procession, and with jubilant prayers and hymns gave thanks 
to God for their victory. The Catholic pulpits resounded with 
exultant harangues. A medal was struck off in honor of the 
event, with the inscription, " La Piete a reveille la Justice," — 
" Religion has awakened Justice." 

In some of the distant provinces in France, the Protestants 
were in the majority; and the Catholics did not venture to 
attack them. In some others they were s^ few that they were 
not feared, and were therefore spared. In the sparsely-settled 
rural districts, the Catholic peasants, kind-hearted and virtuous, 
refused to imbrue their hands in t±ie blood of their neighbors. 
In these ways, several thousand Protestants escaped. 

But in nearly all the cities and populous towns the slaughtei 
was indiscriminate and universal. The number who perished 
in the awful massacre of St. Bartholomew is estimated at from 
eighty to a hundred thousand. 

But there were some noble Catholics, who, refusing to sur- 
render conscience to this iniquitous order of the king, laid 
down their own lives in adhering to the principle, that they 



462 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

would "obey God rather than man" when God's law and 
man's law came into antagonism. ' 

The governor of Auvergne, an heroic and a noble man,, 
replied in the following terms to the king's secret missiva 
commanding the massacre : — 

" Sire, I have received an order, under your Majesty's seal, 
to put all the Protestants of this province to death ; and, if 
(which God forbid !) the order be genuine, I still respect your 
Majesty too much to obey you." 

The infamous decree of the king was sent to the Viscount 
Orthez, commandant at Bayonne. The following was his in- 
trepid reply : — 

" Sire, I have communicated the commands of your Majesty 
to the inhabitants of the town, and to the soldiers of the garri- 
son; and I have found good citizens and brave soldiers, but not 
one executioner. On which account, both they and I humbly 
beseech your Majesty to employ our arms and our lives in 
enterprises in which we can conscientiously engage. However 
perilous they may be, we will willingly shed therein the last 
drop of our blood." 

Both of these men of intrepid virtue soon after suddenly 
and mysteriously died. Few entertained a doubt that poison 
had been administered by the order of Charles. 

From these revolting scenes of blood let us briefly glance 
?t the impression which th^ massacre of St. Bartholomew 
produced upon Europe. 

The pope received the tidings with exultation, and ordered 
the most imposing religious ceremonies in Rome in gratitude 
for the achievement. The Papal courts of Spai^ and of the 
Netherlands sent thanks to Charles and Catharine for having 
thus effectually purged France of heresy. 

But Protestant Europe was stricken with indignation. As 
fugitives from France, emaciate, pale, and woe-stricken, recited, 
in England, Switzerland, and Germany, the story of the mas- 
sacre, the hearts of their auditors were frozen with horror. 

In Geueva, a clay of fasting and prayer was instituted, which 
is observed to the present day. In Scotland, every church 



TEE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 463 

resounded with the thrilling tale. John Knox proclaimed, in 
language of prophetic nerve, — 

"Sentence has gone forth against that murderer, the King 
of France ; and the vengeance of God will never he withdrawn 
from his house. His name shall he in everlasting execration." 

The French court, alarmed hy the foreign indignation it had 
aroused, sent an ambassador to the court of Queen Elizabeth 
with a poor apology for the crime. The ambassador was re- 
ceived by England's queen with appalling coldness and gloom. 
Arrangements were studiously made to invest the occasion 
with solemnity. The court wa3 shrouded in mourning, and all 
the lords and ladies appeared in sable weeds. A stern and 
sombre sadness was upon every countenance. The ambassa- 
dor, overwhelmed by this reception, was overheard to exclaim 
to himself, — 

" I am ashamed to acknowledge myseL' a Frenchman ! " 

He entered, however, the presence of the queen ; passed 
through the long line of silent courtiers, who refused to salute 
him even with a look ; stammered out hi3 miserable apology ; 
and, receiving no response, retired covered with confusion. 

It has been said, " The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the 
Church." There are apparent exceptions to this rule. Prot- 
estantism in France has never recovered from this blow. But 
for this massacre, one-half of the nobles of France would have 
continued Protestant. The reformers would soon have consti- 
tuted so large a portion of the population, that mutual tolera- 
tion would have been necessary. Intelligence would have been 
diffused ; religion would have been respected ; and, in all proba- 
bility, the horrors of the French Revolution would have been 
averted. 

God is an c venger. In the mysterious government which 
he wields, — mysterious only to our feeble vision, — " he visits 
the iniquities of the fathers upon the children even unto the 
third and fourth generation." 

As we see the priests of Paris and of France, during tne 
awful tragedy of the Revolution, massacred in the prisons, 
shot in the streets, hung upon the lamp-posts, and driven in 



464 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

starvation and woe from the kingdom, we cannot but remem- 
ber the day of St. Bartholomew. The 24th of August, 1572, 
and the 2d of September, 1792, though far apart in the rec- 
ords of time, are consecutive days in the government of God. 

Henry of Navarre, by stratagem, soon escaped from Paris, 
renounced the Catholicism which he had accepted from com- 
pulsion, and was accepted as the military leader of the Protes- 
tant party throughout Europe. The surviving Protestants 
rallied in self-defence, and implored aid from all the courts 
which had embraced the principles of the Reformation. Eng- 
land and Germany sent troops to their aid. Catholic Spain, 
the Netherlands, and Italy sent armies to assist the Papists. 
Again France was deluged in the woes of civil war, and years 
of unutterable misery darkened the realm. 

Charles IX., as weak as he was depraved, became silent, 
morose, and gloomy. Secluding himself from all society, month 
after month he was gnawed by the scorpion fangs of remorse. 
A bloody sweat, oozing from every pore, crimsoned his bed- 
clothes. His aspect of misery drove all companionship from 
his chamber. He groaned and wept, exclaiming incessantly, — 

" Oh, what blood ! oh, what murders ! Alas ! why did I 
follow such evil counsels ? " 

He saw continually the spectres of the slain with ghastly 
wounds stalking about his bed ; and demons, hideous and threat- 
ening, waited to grasp his soul. As the cathedral bell was 
tolling the hour of midnight on the 30th of May, 1574, his nurse 
heard him convulsively weeping. Gently she drew aside the 
bed-curtains. The dying monarch turned his dim and despair- 
ing eye upon her, and exclaimed, — 

(< my nurse, my nurse ! what blood have I shed ! what mur- 
ders have I committed ! Great God, pardon me, pardon me ! " 

A convulsive shuddering for a moment agitated his frame : 
his head fell upon his pillow, and the wretched man was dead. 
He was then but twenty-four years of age. He expressed 
satisfaction that ho left no heir to live and suffer in a world so 
full of misery. 

The order of knighthood deserves record, as one of the out* 






TEE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 465 

growths of Christianity. Thi.<= institution, originating in the 
eleventh century, was continued thrcugh several hundred 
years as one of the most potent of earthly influences. Guizot, 
speaking of its origin, says, — 

" It was at this period when in the laic world was created 
and developed the most splendid fact of the middle ages, — 
knighthood, that noble soaring of imaginations and souls 
towards the ideal of Christian virtue and soldierly honor. It 
is impossible to trace in detail the origin and history of that 
grand fact, which was so prominent in the days to which it 
belonged, and which is so prominent still in the memories of 
men ; but a clear notion ought to be obtained of its moral 
character, and of its practical worth." 1 

The young candidate for knighthood was first placed in a 
bath, — the symbol of moral and material purification. After 
having undergone a very thorough ablution, he was dressed in 
a white tunic, a red robe, and a close-fitting black coat. The 
tunic was the emblem of purity ; the red robe, of the blood he 
was bound to shed in the service of his order ; and the black 
coat was a reminder of death, to which he, as well as all 
others, was doomed. Thus purified and clothed, the candidate 
underwent a rigid fast for twenty-four hours. He then, it 
being evening, entered a church, usually accompanied by a 
clergyman, and passed the whole night in prayer. 

The next morning, after a full confession of his sins, he 
received from the father-confessor the sacrament of the Lord's 
Supper. A sermon was then preached to him directly, usuallv 
in the presence of a large assembly, enforcing the duties of the 
new life - f knighthood upon which he was about to enter. 
The candidate then approached the altar with a sword sus- 
pended at his side. The officiating priest took the sword, 
implored God's blessing upon it, and returned it to the young 
man. The young knight then kneeled cefore his sovereign, 
or the lord of high degree, who was to initiate him into- the 
honors of knighthood; and the following questions were pro- 
posed to him : — 

> The IH^tory of France, M. Guizot, vol. i. p. 530. 
30 



IJISTOUY OF CUItlSTIAXlTY. 

"Why do you purpose t * Vo ccme a knight? If it be that 
you may become rich, or to take } T our ease, or to acquire honor, 
without performing deeds worthy of renown, you are unworthy 
of the sacred order." 

The young man replies, " I desire to acquit myself honor- 
ably of all the noble deeds of knighthood, without regard to 
wealth or ease." 

A number of beautiful ladies then approached the candidate : 
an d one buckled upon his feet the spurs ; another girded 
around his chest the coat of mail; a third placed upon his 
breast the cuirass ; a fourth brought the highly-polished and 
glittering helmet ; while a fifth presented him the armlets and 
gauntlets. Thus clothed by the fair hands of ladies, he again 
kneeled at the altar ; and his sovereign, or the officiating lord, 
supported by a splendid retinue of veteran knights, approached 
him, and, giving him three slight blows with the flat of the 
sword, said, "In the name of God, St. Michael, and St. 
George, I make thee knight. Be valiant, bold, and true." 

The young man, thus arrayed as a knight, went from the 
church, and mounted a magnificent horse held by a groom. 
Brandishing both sword and lance, he displayed to the assem- 
bled multitude the wonderful feats of horsemanship to which 
he had been trained. 

Such was, in brief, the ceremony in the admission of Heights. 
It wall be seen that the religious element entered largely into 
its spirit. Indeed, the knight took a solemn oath to serve 
God religiously, and to die a thousand deaths rather than ever 
renounce Christianity. A poet of the fourteenth century, in 
verses upon the character and duties of knighthool, in the fol- 
lowing lines shows us what was then understood to be the 
true elevation of knighthood : — „ 

" Amend your lives, yc who would fain 
The order of the knights attain ; 
Devoutly watch, devoutly pray ; 
From pride and sin, oh ! turn away ; 
Be good and true ; take nought by might; 
Be bold, and guard the people's right : 
This is the rule for the gallant knight/* 






TEE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW, 467 

This institution, "which manifestly sprang from Christianity, 
exerted a powerful influence, amid the anarchy and barbarism 
of the middle ages, in rectifying disorders, and in protecting 
the weak against the strong. 






CHAPTER XXIV. 



THE CHURCH IX MODERN TIMES, 



Character of Henry III.— Assassination of the Duke of Guise. — Cruel Edict* 
of Louis XIV. — E evocation of the Edict of Nantes. — Sufferings of Protes- 
tants. — Important Question. — Thomas Chalmers. — Experiment at St. John. 
— His Labors and Death.— Jonathan Edwards. — His Resolutions. — Hto 
Marriage. — His Trials. — His Death. — John Wesley. — His Conversion.— 
George Whitefield. — First Methodist Conference. — Death of Wesley. — Rob- 
ert Hal!. — His Character and Death. — V\ illiam Paley. — His Works and 

• Death.— The Sabbath. — Power of the Gospel. — Socrates. — Scene on ths 
Prairie. — The Bible. 



HE seventeenth century opened with almost 
universal corruption, outside of the limited cir- 
cle of the true disciples of Jesus Christ. The 
moral and political world presented the aspect 
of a raging sea darkened by storm-clouds, with 
the waves dashing upon every shore. The 
utmost profligacy of manners prevailed generally 
while the masses of the people were ignorant and 
The Papal Church, which had degenerated into a 
towering organization of worldly ambition, had become cor- 
rupt almost beyond the power of the pen to describe. 

Henry III. had succeeded his miserable brother, Charles 
IX., upon the throne of France. While Duke of Anjou, he 
had distinguished himself by his malignant hostility to the 
Protestants, or Huguenots as they were there called. He 
was as weak as he was wicked, and never hesitated to employ 
the dagger of the assassin to rid himself of those te feared 

m 




in courts ; 
degraded. 



TBE CnURCE IN MODERN TIMES. 440 

Impelled by his infamous mother, Catharine de Medici^ he en- 
deavored to wage exterminating war against the Protestants 
who had survived the massacre of St. Bartholomew. But 
they, led hy Henry of Navarre, — subsequently Henry IV. of 
France, — and aided hy other Protesta.nb powers, made a vig- 
orous defence. Wretched France was thus devastated hy the 
most cruel civil war. 

Fearing the rising p^wer of the Guises, who were the de- 
veted partisans of the Papacy, Henry secured the assassina- 
tion of the Duke of Guise, and of his brother the cardinal. 
This exasperated the pope. Henry was stabbed by a fanatic 
monk. The Pope, Sixtus V., in full consistory, applauded the 
deed. He apparently wished to encourage the assassination 
of all sovereigns who were not obsequiously obedient to the 
Papacy. The regicide he pronounced, in declamatory phrase, 
" to be comparable, as regards the salvation of the world, to 
the incarnation and the resurrection, and that the courage of 
the youthful assassin surpassed that of Eleazar and Judith." 

The Catholic historian, Chateaubriand, declares that " it was 
of importance to the pope to encourage fanatics who were 
ready to murder kings in the name of the Papal power." The 
annalist Brantome says that lie saw a bull of the pope order- 
ing the assassination of Elizabeth, the Protestant que a of 
England. 

Upon the accession to the throne of France of Henry IV., — 
who, with his mother, had ~ een at the head of the Protestant 
armies of Europe, — Henry, who had been politically a Protes- 
tant, not spiritually a disciple of Jesus, found it expedient to 
adopt the Catholic faith saying with nonchalance, " A crown 
is surely -*vorth a mass." He, however, continued to befriend 
the Protestants. In the year 1598 he issued a famous decree, 
called the Edict of Nantes, which allowed Protestants the free 
exercise of their religion, and gave them equal claims with 
Catholics to all offices and dignities. They were also left in 
possession of certain fortresses which had been ceded to them 
for their security. 

But Louis XIV., grasping at absolute power, grew more 



4?0 



Mis font op cnnlsTiANiTt. 



and more fanatic during his long reign, oppressing the Protes* 
tants with ever-increasing cruelty. Edict °fter edict deprived 
them of their civil rights ; and dragoons were sent into their 
provinces to compel them to abjure their faith. The persecu- 
tion was so merciless, that, notwithstanding the king guarded 
his frontiers with the utmost vigilance, more than five hundred 
thousand Huguenots escaped to the Protestant countries of 
Switzerland, Germany, Holland, and England. 

T 1 e fanaticism of the Catholics was such, that the Edict of 
Nantes undoubtedly cost Henry IV. his life. The assassin 
Ravaillac, who twice plunged his dagger into the bosom of the 
king, said in his examination, — 

" I killed the king, because, in making war upon the pope, 
he made war upon God, since the pope is God." 

Louis XIV., while assuring the Protestant powers of Europe 
that he would continue to respect the Edict of Nantes, com- 
menced issuing a series of ordinances in direct contravention 
of that contract. He excluded Protestants fiom all public 
offices; forbade their employment as physicians, lawyers, 
apothecaries, booksellers, printers, or even nurses. In many of 
the departments of France, the Protestants composed nearly 
the entire population. Here it was impossible to enforce the 
atrocious decrees. In other places, where parties- were more 
equally divided, riots and bloodshed were excited. 

These ordinances were soon followed by others prohibiting 
marriages between Catholics and Protestants. Catholic ser- 
vants were forbidden employment in Protestant families; and 
Catholics were also forbidden to employ Protestant servants. 
On the 17th of June, 1680, the king issued the following 
decree : — 

"We wish that our subjects of the pretended reformed 
religion, both male and female, having attained the age of 
seven years., may, and it is hereby made lawful for them to 
embrace the Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman religion ; and that, 
to this effect, they may be allowed to abjure the pretended 
reformed religion, without their fathers and mothers and othei 
kinsmen being allowed to offer them the least hinderance under 
any pretext whatever/' 



THE CHURCH IN 3WDEHN TIMES. 471 

This law enabled any one to go before a Catholic court, and 
testify that any child had made the sign of the cross, or kissed 
an image of the Virgin, or had expressed a desire to enter a 
Catholic church, and that child was immediately wrested from 
its parents, and placed in a convent for education, whiie the 
parents were compelled to defray all the expenses. 

A decree was then issued, that all Protestants who would 
abjure their faith might defer the payment of their debts for 
three years; should be exempt from taxation, and from the 
burden of having soldiers quartered upon them. Those who 
refused were punished with a double portion of taxation and 
a double quartering of soldiers. Officers were sent to the sick- 
beds of Protestants, that, by importunity and urgent solicita- 
tion, they might convert them to the Catholic faith. Physi- 
cians were ordered, under a heavy penalty, to give notice if 
any Protestants were sick. If any convert from Catholicism 
were received into any Protestant church, that church edifice 
was immediately closed, and the further privilege of public 
worship prohibited; while the Catholic convert was punished 
with confiscation of proper! 3', and banishment from the realm. 

From four to ten dragoons were lodged in the house of every 
Protestant. These fanatic and cruel men were ordered not to 
kill the Protestants with whom they lodged, but to do every 
thing in their power to constrain them to abjure their Chris- 
tian faith. 

" They attached crosses to the muzzles of their muskets to 
force the Protestants to kiss them. When any one resisted, 
they thrust these crosses against the face and breasts of the 
unfortunate people. They spared children no more than 
persons advanced in years. Without compassion for their 
age, they fell upon them with blows, and beat them with the 
flat of their swords and the but of their muskets. They did 
this so cruelly, that some were crippled for life." 1 

The Protestants were prohibited from attempting to leave 
the kingdom, under penalty of perpetual consignment to the 
galleys. Every boor in advocacy of Protestantism, which tha 

* Histoire de l'Edit de ftantes, t. iv. p. 479. 



472 



HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 



most rigorous search could find, was burned. When a repre* 
sentation was made to the king of the tjrrible suffering these 
enactments w^re inflicting upon two millions of Protestants, he 
replieJ, — 

" To bring back all in; subjects to Catholic unity, I woul^ 
willingly with one nand cut off the other." 

The king flattered himself that he was thus absolutely ex- 
terminating Protestantism from France. His officers wrote 
him very flattering but false accounts of the success which was 
attending their efforts. It was reported to him, that, by the 
persuasive energies of this rigorous persecution, sixty thou- 
sand Protestants in the district of Bordeaux, and twenty thou- 
sand in Montauban, had been converted to the Catholic faith. 

In September, 1685, Louvois wrote to the king, — 

"Before the end of the month, there will not remain ten 
thousand Protestants in all the district of Bordeaux, where 
there were a hundred and fifty thousand the loth of last 
month." 

The Duke of Noailles wrote, "The number of Protestants 
in the district of Nisnies is about a hundred and forty thou- 
sand. I believe, that, at the end of the month, none will be 
left." 

Deluded by ih.e-^9 reports, Louis XIV., on the 18th of October, 
1685, signed tij Evocation of the Edict of Nantes. In the 
preamble to tl \c ._& «d ** t, ne said, — 

'We see nos T , Y7:t"?. che just acknowledgment we owe to 
God, that oar measures have secured the end which we our- 
selves proposed, since the oecter and greater part of our subjects 
ol the pretended referee.^, raligion have embraced the Catho- 
lic faith ; and the wdLu'gzzu&j&s of the Edict of Nantes remains, 
therefore, superfluous." 

By this act it was declared that the Protestant worship 
should be nowhere tolerated in France. All Protestant pas- 
tors were ordered to leave thr. kingdo n within fifteen days, 
under jtonslfy of being sen" to the galleys. Protestant pastors 
who would abjure their faith weri promised a salary one-third 
more than they had previously enjoyed. Parents were forbidden 



THE CHUUCH IN MODERN TIMES. 4?3 

to instruct their children in the Protestant religion. Every 
child born in the kingdom was to be baptized and educated by 
a Catholic priest. All Protestant Frenchmen, out of France, 
were ordered to return within four months/ under penalty of 
confiscation of property. Any Protestant layman or woman 
who should attempt to leave France, way, if arrested, doomed 
to imprisonment for life. 

Such were the infamous decrees enacted in France but two 
hundred years ago. The woes they caused can never be 
gauged: the calamities they entailed upon France have been 
awful. Hundreds of thousands, in defiance of poverty, the 
dungeon, and utter temporal ruin, adhered to their faith: 
thousands, haggard with want and despair, through all con- 
ceivable suffering, effected their escape. 

At the time of the Revocation, the Protestant population 
of France was estimated at between two and three millions. 
Though the edict was enforced by the government with the 
utmost severity, many noble-hearted Catholics sympathized 
with the Protestants, befriended them in various ways, and 
aided them to escape. Though guards were placed upon every 
road leading to the frontiers, and thousands of fugitives were 
arrested, still thousands escaped. Some, in armed bands, fought 
their way with drawn swords; some obtained passports from 
kind-hearted Catholic governors; some bribed their guards; 
some travelled by night from hiding-place co hiding-place; 
some assumed the disguise of peddlers selling Catholic relics. 
It is estimated by Catholic writers that about two hundred and 
thirty thousand escaped. Antoine Court, one of the Protestant 
pastors, places the number as high as eight hundred thousand. 
M. Sismondi thinks that as many perished as escaped: he 
places the number of each at between three and four hundred 
thousand. 

The suffering was awful. Multitudes perished of cold, hun- 
ger, and exhaustion. Thousands were shot by the soldiery. 
So many were arrested, that the prisons and gallej^s of France 
were crowded with victims. Among these were many men 
illustrious in rank and culture. The arrival of the fugitives. 



iii 



msronf op ctiRisfiAititt. 



emaciate and woe-stricken, upon the soil of Protestant coun- 
tries, created intense sensation. From every Protestant court 
in Europe a cry of indignation arose. England, Switzerland, 
Holland, Prussia, Denmark, Sweden, received the sufferers 
with warm demonstrations of hospitality and sympathy. 

The loss to France was irreparable. Only one year after the 
Eevocation, Marshal Vauban wrote, — 

" Prance has lost a hundred thousand inhabitants, sixty mil- 
lions of coined money, nine thousand sailors, twelve thousand 
disciplined soldiers, six hundred officers, and her most flourish- 
ing manufactures." 

The fanatic king, instead of being softened by these woes, 
became more unrelenting. He issued an ordinance requiring 
that all the children between five and sixteen years of age, of 
parents suspected of Protestantism, should be taken from their 
home?, and placed in Catholic families. All books which it was 
thought in any way favored the Protestant faith were seized 
and burned. "The Bible itself, the Bible above all, was con- 
fiscated and burned with persevering animosity.'"' 1 

But no power of persecution could utterly crush out between 
two and three millions of Protestants, nearly every one of whom 
was ready to go to the stake in defence of his faith. In some 
of the provinces the Protestants were in so large a majority, 
and were organized under such able military leaders, that the 
king was unable to enforce with any efficiency his sanguinary 
code. 

In contemplation of such scenes of fanaticism and suffering, 
one is led to inquire if Christianity has, on the whole, proved 
a blessing to mankind. But let it be remembered, that as 
secular history is mainly occupied with a record of the wars 
and the woes of humanity, while years of tranquillity and peace 
have no annalists ; so historians of the Church have been mainly 
occupied with the. corruptions which human depravity have 
introduced into the pure, simple, and beneficent principles of 
the religion of Jesus. But there is little to be recorded of 
the millions upon millions of Christians in private life, who, 

* History of the irretest&acji in Frsaoe, by 2zol. a. 1* Felice, 



The church in modern times. &B 

from youth to old age, have had their hearts purified, their 
manners softened) their homes cheered and hlessed, hy those 
quiet virtues which their faith has inculcated. Every joy of 
their lives has heen magnified, and every grief solaced; by 
their piety. 

They have fallen asleep in Jesus, triumphant over death and 
the grave, and are now with angel-companions in the paradise 
of God. No man can estimate the multitude of these redeemed 
ones: their number is "ten thousand times ten thousand, and 
thousands of thousands." And now, to use the glowing lan- 
guage of inspiration, — 

" Are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and 
night in his temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall 
dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst 
any more ; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat: 
for the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed 
them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters ; and 
God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." 1 

In the accompanying group of portraits, the reader will find 
correct likenesses of some of the most distinguished of the Prot- 
estant clergy during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. 

Thomas Chalmers, one of the most eloquent and renowned 
z>f the Presbyterian clergy of Scotland, was born at Anstruther, 
in Pifeshire, the 17th of March, 1780. At the early age of 
twelve, he entered the University of St. Andrew's. Distinguish- 
ing himself as a scholar, he was licensed to preach in his nine- 
teenth year. When he was .first ordained minister of a small 
parish at Kilmany, his mind was chiefly occupied with studies 
of natural science, and in speculating upon moral, social, and 
political questions. Though he devoted little time, compara- 
tively, to the pulpit, still, with powers of glowing and impas- 
sioned eloquence which drew great multitudes to hear him, he 
enforced the highest principles of worldly morality. Though 
the audiences listened, charmed by his eloquence, he testifies, 
that, at the close of twelve years, he could not perce ve that any 
good hid been accomplished by his preaching. Tl^s led him 

* Eev. vii. 15-17. 



4?6 



HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 



to inquire why the preaching of the gospel by the apostles 
produced results so different from those which he witnessed. 

These anxious questions, in connection with a dangerous ill- 
ness and severe domestic bereavements, led him to a renewed 
examination of the New Testament. He then perceived that 
he had been a stranger to the gospel of Christ, and that he 
had been preaching simply a code of morals, without regard to 
those great doctrines which are the " wisdom of God, and the 
power of God unto salvation." From his sick-bed he returned 
to the pulpit, a new man, to proclaim to his congregation, with 
increasing fervor of utterance, salvation through faith in an 
atoning Saviour. The style of his preaching was thoroughly 
changed. The themes upon which he dwelt, and upon which 
he brought to bear all the powers of his rich and varied culture 
and his impassioned eloquence, were the lost state of mankind 
by the fall ; the atonement for human guilt made by the suffer- 
ings and death of the Son of God upon the cross at Calvary ; 
redemption from sin and its penalty, obtained through peni- 
tence and faith in this atoning Saviour; regeneration, — the 
recreating of the soul by the energies of the Holy Spirit ; and 
the endeavor to live a Christ-like life, as the result of this 
renewal by the Holy Ghost. 

There was vitality in these doctrines ; they inspired the 
preacher with zeal unknown before ; and, from that hour to 
the day of his death, Thomas Chalmers preached the glad tid- 
ings of the gospel with power, and with success unsurpassed, 
perhaps, by any other preacher in Great Britain or America, 
He still continued to prosecute his literary and scientific studies, 
but brought all his resources to the advocacy of the gospel. In 
one of his published articles, he alludes with admiration to the 
history of Pascal, " who, after a youth signalized with profound 
speculations, had stopped short in a brilliant career of dis- 
covery, resigned the splendors of literary reputation, renounced 
without a sigh all the distinctions which are conferred upon 
genius, only to devote every talent and every hour to 'he 
defence and illustration of the gospel." 1 

1 New American Encyclopaedia* 



THE CnUItCII IN MODERN TIMES. 477 

His pulpit eloquence attracted listeners from great distances. 
An article which he wrote for "The Encyclopaedia" in 1813, 
upon " The Evidences of Christianity," attracted great atten- 
tion, and vras immediately republished in separate volumes. 
Several review articles which he wrote upon scientific and 
political questions added greatly to his renown. In 1815 he 
was invited to the pastoral charge of a parish in Glasgow. 
Here, for eight years, he stood, as a pulpit orator, without a 
rival. The most distinguished philosophers and the most un- 
lettered men were alike charmed by his address. 

Jeffries describes the impression produced by his sermons as 
similar to the effect created by the most impassioned strains of 
Demosthenes. Wilberforce wrote in his diary, "All the world 
is wild about Dr. Chalmers." He delivered a series of weekly 
lectures on " The Connection of the Discoveries of Astronomy 
and the Christian Revelation." They were listened to with 
intense admiration, and, being published in 1817, secured an 
immense sale, rivalling even the Waverley Novels in popu- 
larity. 

His fame was such, that, being invited to London to preach, 
the most distinguished men in the kingdom crowded the 
church, and listened with admiration to his glowing utter- 
ances. Several articles which he contributed to " The Edin- 
burgh Review " added much to his celebrity as a philosopher, 
a statesman, and an accomplished scholar. Through his influ- 
ence, the old parochial system of Scotland was thoroughly 
revised ; and the whole community was divided into small 
sections, so as to bring every individual under educational and 
ecclesiastical influences. The parish of St. John, which con- 
tained two thousand families, eight hundred of whom were not 
connected with any Christian church, was intrusted, as an 
experiment, entirely to his supervision. The support of the 
poor in that parish had been costing seven thousand dollars a 
year. In four years the poor were in far more comfortable 
circumstances, and the expense of their support amounted to 
but fourteen hundred dollars a year. Every street and lane 
tvas systematically visited. 



478 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

In the year 1823, Dr. Chalmers accepted the professorship of 
moral philosophy in the University of St. Andrew's ; and in tho 
year 1828 he was transferred to the higher sphere of professor 
of theology in the University of Edinburgh. Here he remained 
for fifteen years. The enthusiasm inspired by his ardor and. 
eloquence crowded his lecture-room, not only with students, but 
with men of the highest literary distinction, and clergymen of 
every denomination. In the year 1833 he made a tour through 
Scotland, collecting funds, and urging forward a movement 
which would so increase the churches of the country, that the 
claims of religion should be urged upon every individual heart. 
He had became the recognized leader of what was called the 
Evangelical party. In the General Assembly of 1834 — of 
which Dr. Chalmers was moderator — a resolution was passed, 
that no minister should be forced upon any parish against 
whom a majority of the congregation should remonstrate. 
This gave rise to a very violent controversy. The civil courts 
declared this to be contrary to the law of the land. Thus the 
church and the civil courts came into collision. 

The result was, that, after a struggle of ten years, four 
hundred and seventy clergymen withdrew from the Established 
Church, and associated themselves as the "Free Church ef 
Scotland," choosing Dr. Chalmers their moderator. The last 
four years of Dr. Chalmers's busy life were spent in organiz- 
ing the new church, in performing the duties of president of 
the Free Church College which had been founded, and in 
writing for "The North-British Eeview," which had been 
established under his superintendence. In the midst of these 
arduous labors, Dr. Chalmers was suddenly called to his final 
rest. He had just returned from London, where he had been 
consulting some eminent statesmen upon his views of national 
education, when he was found, on the morning of the 31st of 
May, 1847, dead in his bed, at Morningside, near Edinburgh. 
During the night, he had "fallen asleep in Jesus." The tran- 
quillity of his features showed that the soul had taken its 
upward flight from the body without a struggle or a pang. 
He had attained the age of sixty-seven years, 



THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 479 

Jonathan Edwards, perhaps, takes the rank of the most 
illustrious of American divines. He was born at East Wind 
sor, Conn., on the 5th of Octc^er, 1703. Dr. Chalmers said of 
him, — 

" On the arena of .metaphysics, Jonathan Edwards stood the 
highest of his contemporaries. The American divine affords, 
perhaps, the most wondrous example in modern times of cue 
who stood gifted both in naturf.1 and spiritual liecernment." 

Sir James Mackintosh says of him, u This remarkable man 
— the metaphysician o £ America — was formed among the 
Calvinists of New England. His power of subtle argument, 
perhaps unmatched, certainly unsurpassed, among men, was 
joined with a character which raised his piety to fervor." 

Robert Hall writes, "Jonathan Edwards ranks with the 
brightest luminaries of the Christian Church, not excluding 
'any country or any age." 

In a family of ten sisters, Jonathan was an only son. His 
father and his grandfather, on his mother's side, were both 
eminent ministers of the gospel. His father was distinguished 
for scholarship in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. Under the 
tuition of his father and his accomplished elder sisters, the 
youthful intellect of Jonathan was very rapidly developed. 
Before he was ten years of age, he became deeply concerned 
for his soul's salvation, and engaged very earnestly in a life 
of devotion, praying five times a day in secret. At that early 
age he wrote a treatise, ridiculing the idea that the soul is 
material. When twelve years of age, there was a remarkable 
revival in his father's parish. In a letter to an absent sister, 
he wrote, — 

" The very remarkable outpouring of the Spirit of God still 
continues : but I have reason to think that it is in some 
measure diminished ; yet, I hope, not . much. Three have 
joined the church since you last heard ; five now stand pro- 
pounded for admission ; and I think above thirty persons 
come commonly on a Monday to converse with father about 
the condition of their souls." 

In September, 171G ? when in his thirteenth Year, Jonathan 



480 HISTORY OP- CnRISTIANITY. 

entered Yale College. He devoted himself assiduously to 
study ; and the character of his mind may be inferred from 
the fact, that, when but fifteen years of age, he was discussing 
with the utmost interest such questions as "whether it were 
possible to add to matter the property of thought : " he argued 
that "every thing did exist from all eternity in uncreated 
idea ; " that " truth is the agreement of our ideas with the ideas 
of God ; " that " the universe exists nowhere but in the divine 
mind; " &c. 

When about sixteen years of age, while in college, his mind 
seems to have settled into a calm trust in God. His theo- 
logical opinions became unalterably formed. The peace which 
thus dawned upon his mind he describes in his diary in glow- 
ing language : — 

" The appearance of every thing was altered. There was, 
as it were, a calm, sweet cast, jot appearance, of divine glory in 
almost "every thing. God's excellency, his wisdom, his purity 
and love, seemed to appear in the sun, moon, and stars ; in the 
clouds and blue sky ; in the grass, lowers, troes ; in the water, 
and in all nature." 

After taking his degree, ho remained for two years at New 
Haven, studying theology \ and, before he was nineteen years 
of age, wa3 invited to preach in •- Presbyterian church in New 
York. He preached with great fervor, and in the enjoyment 
of intense spiritual delight, for eight months, when he returned 
to Jiis father's home in East Windsor, where he continued his 
severe and unremitting studies. Here, with much prayer, the 
young Christian wrote a series of seventy resolutions to guide 
him in the conduct of life." We find in them the resolves, — 

To act always for the glory of God and for the good of 
mankind in general • to lose not one moment of time ; to live 
with all Iris might while he did live ; to let the knowledge of 
the failings of others only promote shame in himself; to solve, 
as far as he could, any theorem in divinity he might think of; 
\o trace actions back to their original source ; to be firmly 
faithful to 1 1 is trust ; to live as he would if it were but an hour 
before he should hear the last trump ; to strive every week for 
a higher and stid higher exercise of grace, 



THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 481 

In the diary of this young man of nineteen we find the 
following narrative : " They say there is a young lady in New 
Haven who is beloved of that great Being who made and 
rules the world ; and that there are certain seasons in which 
this great Being, in some way or other, comes to her, and fills 
her mind with exceeding sweet delight; and that she hardly 
cares for any thing except to meditate on him ; that she ex- 
pects after a while to be received up where he is, — to be raised 
up out of the world, and caught up into heaven, being assured 
thai he loves her too well to let. her remain at a distance from 
him always. There she is to dwell with him, and to be ravished 
with his love and delight ibrever. Therefore, if you present 
all the world, with the richest of its treasures, she disregards 
it, and cares not for, and is unmindful of, any path of afflic- 
tion. 

" She has a singular purity in her affections ; is most just 
and conscientious in all her conduct ; and you could not per- 
suade her to do any thing wrong or sinful if you would give 
her all this world, lest she should offend this great Being. She 
is- of a wonderful sweetness, calmness, and universal benevo" 
lence, especially after this great God has manifested himself 
to her mind. She will sometimes go about from place to 
place, singing sweetly ; and seems to be always full of joy and 
pleasure, and no one knows for what. She loves to be alone, 
walking the fields and groves ; and seems to have some one 
invisible always conversing with her." 

This young lady, Sarah Pierrepont, eventually became the 
wife of Mr. Edwards. Though several congregations invited 
him to become their pastor, he decided to devote two more 
years to study before assuming the responsibilities of a parish. 
In June, 1724, he was appointed tutor in Yale College. The 
duties of this station he fulfilled with great success, devoting 
himself with tireless assiduity to study, practising great absti- 
nence both from food and sleep. In February, 1727, he entered 
upon the office of colleague-pastor with Bev. Solomon Stoddard, 
his mother's father, in Northampton, Mass., then, as now. one 
of the m -ct beautiful towns in New England. Immediately 
31 



482 HISTORY OF CHRIST1ANITZ 

after his settlement, he sought the hand of Sarah Pierreponi 
as his hride. 

" She listened to his urgency ; and on July 28, about five 
months after he was settled, the youthful preacher was joined 
in wedlock at New Haven with the wonderfully-endowed hride 
of his choice. She was pure and kind, uncommonly beautiful 
and affectionate, and notable as a housekeeper ; lie, holy and 
learned and eloquent, and undoubtedly the ablest young 
preacher of his time; she seventeen, lie twenty-three. What 
was wanting to their happiness ? The union continued for 
more than thirty years ; and she bore him three sons and eight 
daughters." 

Rapidly the fame of the young preacher spread ; for in his 
sermons were found a union of the closest reasoning, glow- 
ing imagination, and fervid piety. A wonderful revival of 
religion soon followed his earnest ministrations, exceeding 
any thing which had then been known in North America. 
Edwards wrote an account of the surprising conversions which 
took place, which nairative was republished in England and 
in Boston. 

Thus the years passed rapidly, prosperously, and happily 
away, as his powers of eloquence and the productions of his 
pen extended his fame through Europe and America. But 
suddenly a bitter controversy arose in the church to which he 
ministered. The Rev. Mr. Stoddard, a man of mild charac- 
ter and lax discipline, had introduced to the church ii.any 
who did not profess to be in heart Christians, the subjects of 
renewing grace. It had been tacitly assumed that the Lovd's 
Supper was a converting ordinance, and that any persoD of 
respectable character might unite with the church, and partake 
of the Lord's Supper, as he might attend upon the preaching 
of the gospel. But Edwards urged that true conversion should 
precede admission to the communion. In these views Edwards 
was overborne by the majority of the church, who recused to 
allow him to deliver a course of lectures upon the subject. 
Thus, after years of a very unhappy controversy, Mr. Edwards 
was driven from his parish in the twenty-fourth yeu. cf his 



THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 483 

pastorate. He was drawing near the decline of life, had ten 
children dependent upon him, and was left without any visible 
means of support. The magnaniro ity and firmness which Mr. 
Edwards displayed has won for him the admiration of pos- 
terity. 

In the town of Stockbridge, among the mountains of Berk- 
shire, there was a remnant of a hand of Indians called Housa- 
tonics. A few white settlers had also purchased lands, and 
reared their farm-houses in that region. A society in London, 
organized for the purpose of propagating the gospel, appointed 
him as missionary to these humble people. His income was 
so small, that it was found necessary to add to it by the handi- 
work of his wife and daughters, which was sent to Boston for 



As Mr. Edwards preached to the Indians extempore, and 
through an interpreter, he found more leisure for general 
study than he had ever before enjoyed ; and from this retreat 
in the wilderness, during six years of intense application, he 
sent forth productions which arrested the attention of the 
whole thinking world. His renowned dissertations upon " The 
Freedom of the Will," upon "God's Last End in the Creation 
of the World," upon " The Nature of True Virtue," and on 
"Original Sin," placed him at once in the highest ranks of 
theologians and philosophers. 

While thus laboring in his humble home in the then inhospi- 
table frontiers of Massachusetts, he was invited to the presidency 
of Princeton College, one of the most prominent seminaries in 
the country. The small-pox was raging in the vicinity, and 
he was inoculated as an act of prevention. The disease 
assumed a malignant form ; and on the 22d of March, 1758, he 
died at Princeton, N. J., thirty-four days after his installation 
as president. • He had attained the age of fifty-four years. 
Fully cons^iovs that death was approaching, he sent messages 
of love to tk? absent members of his family. His last words 
were, " Trust in God, and you need not fear." 

There is probably no name in the modern history of Chris- 
tianity more prominent than that of John Wesley. It is 



484 msTORY OP 0HE1STTAN2TT 

certain that the denomination of Methodists, of which lie is 
the father and the founder, has exerted an influence in reclaim- 
ing lost souls to the Saviour second to that of no other branch 
of the Church of Christ. In November, 1729, — less than a 
hundred and fifty years ago, — John "Wesley, then a young 
student but twenty-six years of age in Oxford University, 
England, with his younger brother Charles and two other 
students, united in a class for their own spiritual improvement. 
Their strict habits and methodical improvement of time led 
their fellow-students to give them, somewhat in derision, the 
name of Methodists. They accepted the name, and made it 
honorable. 

Such was the origin of a denomination of Christians which 
has now become one of the largest and most influential in the 
world. According to the statistics given in the Methodist 
Almanac for 1872, the denomination now numbers, in the 
United States alone, — 

21,086 . . . Preachers. 

1,436,396 . . . Church-members. 

193,9V 9 . . . Sunday-school teachers. 

1,267,742 . . . Sunday-school scholars. 

$64,098,104 . . . Value of church edifices and parsonages. 1 

John Wesley was the son of a mother alike remarkable for 
her piety and her intellectual endowments. He was born at 
Epworth, England, on the 17th of June, 1703. At the age 
of seventeen, he entered the University at Oxford. Taking his 
first degree in 1724, he was elected fellow of Lincoln College, 
and graduated master of arts in 1726. He was at this time 
quite distinguished for his attainments, particularly in the 
classics, and for his skill as a logician. Being naturally of a 
sedate, thoughtful turn of mind, he had from childhood been 
strongly inclined to the Christian ministry. The teachings of 

1 According to the same authority, there are, in the L'nitc' States, Baptist 
church-members, of the various divisions of that body, — Calvinist, Five»vill, 
Seventh-day, Campbellite, and Winnebrunarians, — amounting to l,"95.4ut. The 
Presbyterians number 615,770; the Congregationalists report 30C.3G2; and the 
Episcopalians, 176,685. The Catholics, counting all nominal Catholics as church- 
members, iriespective of moral character, number between three and five millions. 



THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 48.5 

his noble mother had inspired him with the intense desire 
of being useful to his fellow-men. Being ordained to the min- 
istry, he was for a short time his father's curate. Returning 
to Oxford still further to prosecute his studies, he expressed 
strong dissatisfaction at the want of zeal manifested in the 
Established Church for the conversion of sinners. This led 
him to consecrate himself with great solemnity to the more 
strict observance of the duties of religious life. 

He formed a society for mutual religious improvement, whicii 
consisted at first only of himself, his younger brother Charles, 
and two others of his fellow-students. The number was, how- 
ever, soon increased to fifteen. Ten years passed away with 
their usual vicissitudes, nothing occurring worthy of especial 
note. In 1735, Mr. Wesley was induced to go to Georgia to 
preach to the colonists there, and more especially to labor as a 
missionary among the Indians. The mission proved very un- 
successful. The disturbed state of the colony was such, that he 
could get no access to the Indians. Though at first he had a 
large and flourishing congregation of colonists to address in 
Savannah, there soon sprang up very bitter alienation between 
him and the people of his charge. They rebelled against the 
strictness of discipline which he attempted to introduce. He 
refused to admit dissenters from the Episcopal Church to the 
communion, unless they were rebaptized ; insisted upon immer- 
sion as the mode of performing that rite ; and became involved 
in a very serious matrimonial difficulty. 

The result was, that he soon found his influence at an end in 
Georgia. After a residence of two years at Savannah, he re- 
turned to England, " shaking the dust oif his feet," as he said, 
in testimony against the colonists. Recrossing the Atlantic, 
he visited the colony of Moravian Christians, or United Breth- 
ren as they were also called, at Hernhult, in Upper Lusatia. 
This colony was founded by Count Zinzendorf upon what he 
considered as the model of the primitive apostolic Christians. 
Leaving out all the distinctive doctrines of the various Prot- 
estant denominations, he adopted as articles of faith only those 
fundamental scriptural truths in which all evangelical Chris* 
tians agree. 



iS6 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Mr. Wesley soon made the extraordinary discovery, as he 
himself states, that he had never heen truly converted. While 
crossing the ocean to lead others to the Saviour, he had. never 
come to th.'i-t Saviour himself. " He felt," he said, " a want of 
the victorious faith of more experienced Christians." Agitated 
by these thoughts, he at length, in his estimation, became a sub- 
ject of that renewing grace entitled in the Bible being " born 
again." So sudden was this change, that he could not only 
point out the day and the hour, but the moment also, when it 
took place. " It was," he says, " at quarter before nine o'clock 
on the evening of May 24, at a meeting of a society in Alder- 
gate Street, when one was reading Luther's Preface to the 
Epistle to the Romans." 

In this respect, the experience of Mr. Wesley was somewhat 
similar to that of Dr. Chalmers. He at once began his labors 
of preaching the gospel of Christ, with zeal and success, per- 
haps, never surpassed. George Whiten eld, one of the most im- 
passioned and eloquent of sacred orators, joined him. They 
both preached several times a day in the prisons, and at all 
other places where they could gain an audience. Their fervor at- 
tracted crowds ; and strong opposition began to be manifested 
against them. As the Established clergy refused to open their 
churches to these zealous preachers, the}' addressed audiences 
in the open fields, and particularly in an immense building 
called the Foundery at Moorsfield. Here Mr. Wesley organized 
his first church of but eight to ten persons. There was at that 
time great deadness in the Established Church. Many of the 
nominal pastors were utterly worldly men, who made no profes- 
sion of piety. The clergy were often younger sons of nobles, 
who had been placed over the churches simp!y through the influ- 
ence of their fathers, that they might enjoy the revenues of the 
church. Reckless men, devoted to pleasure, they were called 
"fox-hunting parsons ;" and the church became often the scene 
only of a heartless round of ceremonies. The masses of the 
people found nothing in such a religion either to cheer them in 
their sorrows, or to animate them to a holy life. 

The preaching of Wesley and his companions came directly 



THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 487 

home to the hearts of the people. It was the earnest and im- 
passioned utterance to weary souls of the good news and glad 
tidings of the gospel. The little church of eight or ten mem- 
bers which he established at N the Foundery was composed of 
those who, as Wesley testifies, "came to him and desired him to 
spend some time with them in prayer, and advise them how to 
escape from the wrath to come." 

The church at the Foundery rapidly increased in numbers : 
crowds flocked to listen to the earnest preaching. The build- 
ing was converted into a chapel, and became the centre of ope- 
rations. From this centre, Wesley and his associates made 
constant journeys into the surrounding country, sometimes to 
a great distance, preaching wherever they went. They gene- 
rally preached twice every day, and four times on the sabbath. 
At Kensington Common, Wesley at one time addressed a con- 
course estimated to be not less than twenty thousand pers.ons. ' 

" Wesley devoted himself to his work in Great Britain with 
such completeness, that scarcely an hour was abstracted from 
the cause on which he had set his heart. He seldom travelled 
less than forty miles a day ; and until near the close of life, 
when he used a chaise, generally went on horseback. It is 
said that not an instance can be found, during a period of fifty 
years, wherein 'the severest weather hindered him for a single 
day. His journeys extended to Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, 
in each of which countries he preached with great success. 
He formed societies, and placed lay preachers over them ; ap- 
pointed class-leaders, and established schools, the most impor- 
tant of which was that of Kingswood, near Bristol, which was 
designed more particularly for the education cf the sons of 
preachers. The most extraordinary revivals followed his min- 
istry, especially among the poor and destitute in the mining 
and manufacturing districts." 1 

Though Wesley continued to adhere to the Established 
Church, still the principles of tolerance which he advocated 
tended more and more, every day, to cause the rapidly-increasing 
Methodist churches to be regarded as a distinct sect. At the 

1 JSew American Encyclopaedia. 



488 BISTORT OF CHRISTIANITY. 

first conference of the Methodist clergy at the Foundery Chapel, 
in 1744, eight preachers were present. Wesley then said, — 

"You cannot he admitted to the church of Presbyterians, 
Baptists, Quakers, or any others, unless you hold the same 
opinions with them, and adhere to the same mode of worship. 
The MetlK dists alone do not insist upon your holding this or 
tha f . opinion ; hut they think, and let think. Neither do they 
impose any particular mode of worship; hut you may continue 
to worship in your former manner, be it what it may. Now, 
I do not know any other religious society, either ancient or 
modern, wherein such liberty of conscience is .now allowed, or 
has been allowed since the days of the apostles. Here is our 
glorying, and it is a glorying peculiar to us." 

In the year 1752, Wesley married a widow with four children. 
But tli3 religious zeal which inspired him was singularly mani- 
fested in the marriage contract, in which it was stipulated that 
he should rot preach one sermon the less, nor travel one mile 
the less, on account of his change of condition. It is, perhaps, 
not strange that the marriage did not prove a happy one. 
After a life of ^rtivity and usefulness to which few parallels 
can be found, John Wesley died in London on the 2d of 
March, 1791, in the eighty-third year of his age. The last 
four days of his life were days of Christian triumph, in which 
the veteran servant of Christ found that faith in Jesus did 
indeed make him victor over death and the grave. It is esti- 
mated, that, during his ministry of sixty-five years, he travelled 
about two hundred and seventy thousand miles, and delivered 
over forty thousand sermons, besides addresses, exhortations, 
and prayers. The denomination of which he was the founder 
is now exerting in England and the United States an influence 
second certainly to that of none other ; and it is every hour 
increasing in all the elements of prosperity and power. 

Robert Hall, one of the brightest ornaments of the Baptist 
Church, by universal assent occupies one of the most promi- 
nent positions among men of genius and of culture, his works 
having given him renown throughout Christendom. The cele- 
brated Dr. Parr, who was his intimate friend, says of him, — 



TEE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 489 

"Mr. Hall has, like Jeremy Taylor, the eloquence of an 
orator, the fancy of a poet, the subtlety of a schoolman, the 
profoundness of a philosopher, and the piety of a saint." 

Robert Hall was born at Arnsby, Leicestershire, England, 
in August, 1764. His father, who was a Baptist clergyman 
of considerable note, early perceived a wonderful degree of 
intellectual development in his child. He said to a friend, — 

" Robert at nine years of age fully comprehended the reason- 
ing in the profoundly argumentative treatises of Edward on the 
-Will and the Affections." 

When fifteen years old, Robert became a student in the 
Baptist College at Bristol ; and in his eighteenth year entered 
King's College, Aberdeen. Here he became acquainted with 
Sir James Mackintosh, which acquaintance ripened into a life- 
long friendship. 

Upon leaving college, Mr. Hall commenced preaching, and 
with a power which immediately drew iround him, and elicited 
the admiration of, crowds of the most intellectual of hearers. 
His biographer says of him, — 

"Mr. Hall's voice is feeble, but very distinct : as he proceeds, 
it trembles under his energy. The plainest and least-labored 
of his discourses are not without delicate imagery and the 
most felicitous turns of expression. He expatiates on the pro- 
phecies with a kindred spirit, often conducting his audience to 
the top of the ' Delectable Mountains,' where they can see 
from afar the gates of the Eternal City. He seems at home 
among the marvellous revelations of St. John ; and, while he 
dwells upon them, he leads his hearer breathless through ever- 
varying scenes of mystery far more glorious and surprising 
than the wildest of Oriental fables. He stops where they most 
desire he should proceed, where he has just disclosed the dawn- 
ings of the inmost glory to their enraptured minds, and leaves 
them full of imaginations of things not made with hands, of 
joys too ravishing for similes." 

Robert Hall's life was devoid of adventure, having been 
spent almost exclusively in the study and the pulpit. His 
conversational powers were of the highest order; and, iD every 



490 



HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 



social circle, crowds gathered around him, charmed by the 
unstudied eloquence which flowed from his lips. He was an 
indefatigable student ; and, though one of the most profound 
thinkers, was one of the most childlike of men In unaffected 
simplicity of character. His pre-eminence in the pulpit was 
universally acknowledged, and his extraordinary powers ever 
crowded his church with the most distinguished auditors. 
During his life he issued several pamphlets, which obtained 
celebrity throughout all Christendom. A sermon which he 
preached upon Modern Infidelity was published in repeated 
editions, and "sent a thrill to every village and hamlet of 
Great Britain." Its arguments were so unanswerable, that no 
serious attempt was made to reply to them. 

"Whoever," Dugald Stewart wrote, "wishes to see the 
English language in its perfection, must read the writings of 
that great divine, .Robert Hall. He combines the beauties 
of Johnson, Addison, and Burke, without their imperfections." 

A very severe chronic disease of the spine caused him 
throughout his whole life severe suffering. . Once or twice the 
disease so ascended 'co the brain, that the mind lost its balance ; 
and Mr. Hall was compelled for a short time to withdraw from 
his customary labors. 

The works of this distinguished man are still read with 
admiration, and will be ever regarded as among the highest 
productions of the human intellect. He died, universally 
beloved and lamented, on the 21st of February, 1831, in the 
sixty-eighth year of his ap*e. 

There is, perhaps, no divine of the Church of England whose 
name is more prominent in ecclesiastical annals, or more 
widely known throughout the Christian world, than that of 
William Paley. He was born in Peterborough, England, in 
July, 1743. His father, who was curate of a parish, carefully 
instructed him in childhood, and, when his son was sixteen 
years of age, entered him at Christ College, in Cambridge. 
The superior intellect even then developed by the young man 
is evidenced by the remark of his father, " He has by far the 
clearest head I ever met with." 



THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 491 

At the university be applied himself very ililigently to his 
studies, and rapidly attained distinction. After graduating in 
1763, he spent three years as a teacher, and then returned to 
his college as a tutor. In 1775 he was presented to the rectory 
of Musgrove, in Westmoreland; and, marrying, he retired from 
the university to his living. 

The life of Paley was in many respects quite the reverse of 
that of Wesley. He was by no means an ardent Christian, 
His piety, and his appreciation of Christianity, were intellect- 
ual far more than spiritual or emotional. He was not a pop- 
ular preacher: his appropriate field of labor was the silence 
and solitude of the study. From this retreat he issued works 
upon God, Christian Morals, and the Evidences of Christianity, 
which greatly baffled infidelity, and silenced its cavils. 

Being promoted from one living to another as he gained 
reputation, in 1782 lie was advanced to the Arch deanery of 
Carlyle. Three years after this he published his first impor- 
tant work, entitled " The Principles of Moral and Political 
Economy." Though some of its principles were violently as- 
sailed, it commanded the respectful attention of all thoughtful 
men. The work became exceedingly popular even with the 
masses, as Paley had the power of making the most abstruse 
truths clear and entertaining to the popular mind. 

Eive years after this, in 1790, Paley published another work, 
entitled " Horse Paulinae," which is generally deemed the most 
original and ingenious of all his writings. In this work, which 
obtained renown through all Christendom, he maintained with 
irresistible force of logic the genuineness of St. Paul's Epistles 
and of the Acts of the Apostles, from the reciprocal supports 
they received, from the undesigned coincidences between them. 
This work added greatly to the celebrity of the already distin- 
guished writer, and secured for him still more lucrative offices 
ir, ;he English Church. 

Pour years later, in 1794, he issued another volume, entitled 
li View of the Evidences of Christianity." It may be safely 
said f hat the aiguments here brought forward in attestation of 
thj divint, origin of the religion of Jesus of Kazareth nevei 



492 



HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 



have been, and never can be, refuted. In clearness of diction, 
beauty of illustration, and force of logic, the work has never 
1 en surpassed. It has been adopted as a text-book in many 
of the mos^ distinguished universities, and is considered one 
of the most cogent arguments to be found In any language in 
favor of the divine authority of Christianity. 

Thus does God raise up different instruments to accomplish 
his great purposes of benevolence. While Weslej'- and his 
coadjutors were traversing thousands of miles, and, by their 
impassioned eloquence, were rousing the humble and unlettered 
masses to an acceptance of the glad tidings of the gospel, Paley, 
in the lonely hours of entire seclusion in his study, was framing 
those arguments which intellectually enthroned Christianity in 
the minds of the thoughtful and the philosophic. 

At the close of a studious life of sixty-two years, spent in 
his study and his garden, with but few companions and few 
exciting incidents, this illustrious servant of the Church of 
Christ fell asleep on the 25th of May, 1805. 

For nearly nineteen centuries, Christianity has struggled 
against almost every conceivable form of human corruption. 
All the energies of the powers of darkness have been combined 
against it. In this unholy alliance, kings have contributed 
imperial power ; so-called philosophers, like Voltaire, have con- 
secrated to the foul enterprise the most brilliant endowments 
of wit and learning ; while all " the lewd fellows of the baser 
sort" have swelled the ranks of infidelity with their legions of 
debauchees, inebriates, and blasphemers ; but all in vain : 
generation after generation of these despisers have passed 
away, and perished. 

Christianity has been steadily triumphing over all opposi- 
tion, and was never before such a power in the world as at this 
day. Could you, upon some pleasant sabbath morning, look 
down from a balloon, as with an angel's eye, over the wide 
expanse of Europe, witnessing the movement of its myriad 
population, and, as with an angel's ear, listen to the sounds 
which sweep over its mountains, its valleys, and its plains, how 
wonderful the spectacle which would meet the eye, and the 



ZMM CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 493 

vibrations which, like the fabled music of the spheres, would 
fill the air ! Suppose it to be such a sabbath morning as Her- 
bert describes, — 

" Sweet clay, fo cool, so calm, po bright, 
The bridal of the earth and sky : " 

you would hear the chime of millions of church-bells floatirg 
in iEolian harmony over crowded cities and green fields, melo- 
dious as angel-voices proclaiming the praises of God. As you 
inquire, "What causes this simultaneous clangor of sweet 
sounds over thousands of leagues of territory, regardless of the 
barriers of mountains and rivers, of national boundaries and 
diverse tongues? whence comes the impulse which has created 
this wondrous summons to hundreds of millions of people, spread 
over a majestic continent, under diverse institutions, speaking 
different languages, inhabiting different climes, and under all 
varieties of forms of government ? " you would be told, — and 
not an individual on the globe would dispute the assertion, — 
" It is the religion of Jesus of Nazareth." 

As you listen, you look; and, lo ! thronging millions are 
crowding towards innumerable temples of every variety of 
form, size, and structure. The gilded chariot waits at the 
portals of the castle and the palace for the conveyance of nobles 
and kings to these sanctuaries. Through all the streets of 
the cities, and over many green-ribboned roads of the country, 
vehicles of every description may be seen, crowded with men, 
women, and children, all peacefully pressing on to alight at the 
doors of these temples. The pavements of the crowded towns 
are thronged ; pedestrians, in their best attire, are hastening 
ilong the banks of the rivers, and crossing tho pastures and 
the flowery plains ; while, some in wagons, some in carts, some 
on horseback, the mighty mass, unnumbered and innumerable, 
moves on to ten thousand tim^s ten thousand cathedrals and 
village churches, and to the humblest edifices, where coarsely- 
clad and unlettered peasants meet for praise and prayer. 

The innumerable throng sweeps along the base of tliD 
Carpathian Mountains, threads the passes of the Tyrol; and 



494 bistort of cmttsTiAmTit. 

winds its way through the gorges of the Alps and the 
Apennines. In Russia, wrapped in furs, they struggle through 
snow-drifts, and breast the gale, as they crowd to the Greek 
Church. On the sunny banks of the Mediterranean, in Italy, 
France, and Spain, through v^eyards and orange-groves, 
cheered by the songs of birds and the bloom of flowers, nobles 
and peasants, princes and subjects, press along to the massive, 
moss-covered churches where their ancestors for centuries 
have worshipped according to the rites of the Catholic Church. 
In Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and through all the highways 
and byways of England, Scotland, and Wales, the inmates of 
lordly castles, and humble artisans from mines and manufac- 
tories, are moving onward to the churches where the religion 
of Jesus is inculcated in accordance with the simple rites of 
the Protestant faith 

And, if we cross the Atlantic, we witness the same sub- 
lime spectacle, extending from the icy regions north of the 
St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico, and from the Atlantic 
coast almost to the base of the E.ock} r Mountains, and again 
repeated upon the Pacific shores through the rapidly-popu- 
lating plains of California and Oregon. Scarcely have the 
hardy settlers reared half a dozen log-huts ere the spire of 
the church rises, where the religion of Jesus is taught as 
the first essential to the prosperity of the growing village. 
And so through South America: through its conglomeration 
of States, where light is contending with darkness ; through 
Chili, Peru, Bolivia, and along the majestic streams and wide- 
spreading savannas of the vast empire of Brazil, — the religion 
of Jesus of Nazareth, notwithstanding the imperfections which 
fallen humanity has attached to it, is potent above all other 
influences in enlightening the masses, and in moulding their 
manners and their minds. And now we begin faintly to hear, 
along the western coast jf Africa and the southern shores of 
India, and upon many a green tropical island emerging from 
the Pacific, the tolling of the church-bell, indicating that that 
religion which has became dominant in Europe and America is 
iestined to bring the whole world, from pole to pole, under its 
tenignant sway. 






TEE CBtJBCH IN MODERN TIMES. 495 

And it is worthy of note that the most thoroughly Christian 
nations are the most enlightened, moral, and prosperous upon 
the glohe. Where we do not find this religion, we meet 
effeminate Asiatics, stolid Chinamen, wandering Tartars, and 
Bedouins of the desert. They are the Christian nations who 
stand forth luminous in wealth, power, and intellect. These . 
are the nations which seem now to hold the destinies of the 
globe in their hand; and it is the religion of Jesus which 
has crowned them with this wealth and influence." - 

And again : it is well to call attention to the fact, that every 
literary and scientific university in Christendom, where the 
ablest men in all intellectual culture do congregate, is mainly 
under the control of those who bow in cordial assent to Jesus 
of Nazareth as their Teacher and Lord. 

The Universities of Cambridge and Oxford in England, of 
Edinburgh and Glasgow in Scotland, of Harvard and Yale in the 
United States, declare through their learned professors, wi:h 
almost one united voice, that the salvation of humanity can 
come only through the religion of Jesus the Christ. In France, 
Italy, Germany, Russia, in all the renowned, time-honored 
universities of Continental Europe, the name of Jesus is re- 
vered as above every name, and his teachings are regarded as 
the wisdom of God and thf. power of God. There is hardly a 
university of learning of any note, in Europe or America, where 
Jesus of Nazareth is not recognized as the Son of God, who 
came to seek and to save the lost. 

The standard of what is called goodness in this world greatly 
varies, " There is honor among thieves." A gang of debau- 
chees, gamblers, and inebriates, has its code of morals. The 
proudest oppressors who have ever crushed humanity beneath 
a merciless heel have usually some standard of right and 
wrong, so adroitly formed as to enable them to flatter them- 
selves that they are to be numbered among the good men. 

Socrates, unenlightened by revelation, simply through the 
teachings of his own honest mind, declares him only to be a 
good man who tries to make himself, and all whom he can 
influence, as perfect as possible. The definition which Jesus 



496 BISTORT OF CERISTIANITT. 

gives of goodness, even more comprehensive and beautiful, is, 
that a man should love his Father, God, with all his heart, and 
his brother, man, as himself. This is the only real goodness, — 
angelic goodness, divine goodness. Now, it maybe safely said 
that you cannot iind at the present tirne, or through all past 
ages, a truly good man, in either of the above, definitions of the 
term, whose character has not been modelled by the principles 
laid down by Jesus of 'Nazareth. 

Let the mind run along the list of great and good men, who? 
with loving hearts and pure lives and beneficent actions, have 
been the ornaments of humanity ; men and women who have 
made their own homes happy, who have ever had an open hand 
to relieve the distressed, whose hearts have yearned over the 
wandering, and whose lips have entreated them to return to 
the paths of virtue ; and where can you find one who has not 
manifested the spirit of Jesus, and drawn his main inspiration 
fiom the principles which he has inculcated ? 

There are now many men and women all over Christendom, 
of self-denying lives, active in every good word and work, sym- 
pathizing with the afflicted, helping the needy, praying for and 
trying to reclaim their brothers and sisters of the human fam- 
ily who are crowding the paths of sin ; searching out the chil- 
dren of abandonment, destitution, and woe, from the depravity 
of the streets and from homes of wretchedness, that they may 
be clothed and educated and made holy, — there are thousands 
of such ; and yet it would be difficult to find one, a single one, 
who does not recognize the religion of Jesus as the only moral 
power which can reclaim a lost world. 

We have in the Bible the history of the world, and the biog- 
raphy of its leading individuals, from the dawn of creation 
until those modern days in which secular history tahes up the 
record. Through all these ages not a single man can be found, 
who by the purity of his own life, by the beneficent influence 
of his example, and by his self-denying efforts to promote the 
happiness of others, has not developed the principles uttered 
by the lips of Jesus. 

Indeed, there is an absolute, invincible necessity that every 



THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 497 

truly good man should embrace these principles, and diffuse 
them to the utmost of his power. The moment one awakes to 
the grandeur of his own being, — an immortal created i:\ trie 
image of God, — and begins to breathe the prayer, " God ! help 
me to resist every sin. and aid me to cherish every virtue," lie 
finds at once, that, infinitely above all other boohs, the Bible 
is the book to help him in this new and noble life. He finds 
that every duty which his conscience suggests that he ought to 
perform, the religion of Jesus urges upon him by motives of 
infinite weight. He finds that every allurement, every indul- 
gence, which would retard his moral growth, the religion of 
Jesus urges him, by motives of infinite weight, to avoid. 

All through the Bible, from Genesis to Revelation, there is 
one continual strain of urgency, enforced by every variety of 
argument, warning, and illustration, to aid a man to attain a 
celestial character. 

Ought we to watch over our bodies, that by appetite and pas- 
sion they be not defiled; over our thoughts, that impurity 
enter not the secret chambers of the soul ; over our words, that 
we may ever speak as in the audience-chamber of God ; over 
our minds, that we may store them with all valuable knowledge ; 
over our hearts, that we may love God our Father, and man 
our brother ; over our actions, that every deed may be such as 
God will approve ? Then it is to Jesus of Nazareth we must 
look as our teacher, our guide, our helper. 

The Bible is the book which the good mother gives her boy 
as he goes from home ; and she knows full well, that if her boy 
will read that book daily, and make it the guide of his life, he 
will be safe for time and for eternity. Many a man has said 
years after a sainted mother has ascended to her crown, " It was 
the Bible which my mother gave me which rescued me from 
ruin." 

How noble is the character of the Christian wife and mother 
formed upon the model of Jesus the Christ ! Many of our 
readers have seen the most beautiful exemplification of this in 
their own homes. You have seen your mother all-forgetful of 
herself in her generous devotion to others. You have seen hex 
32 M 



498 BISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

moving like an angel of light in the dark homes of poverty, and 
arcnnd beds of suffering and death, ever unmindful of her own 
ease if she could only heal broken hearts and soothe the cry 
of anguish. Such nobility the world will ever recognize, and 
lo"7e to honor. 

Many such are found in the homes of our own land. Many a 
reader can say, " Such was my mother, God bless her ! " You 
have seen her bending over the cradle, pale, gentle, loving as 
an angel ; you have seen her placid and cheerful amidst all 
the annoyances and. wasting cares of domestic life ; you have 
seen her return home in the morning, after watching during 
the night with a sick neighbor, to toil all day long with fingers 
which never seem to tire, and with a gentle spirit which even 
your waywardness could never discompose. 

And, when the village-bell tolled her funeral, you have seen 
every house emptied as rich and poor came together to weep 
over the departure of one who was the friend and benefactor 
of them all. Oh, how glorious must be the flight of such a 
spirit, ennobled by suffering, victor over death and the grave, 
to join the peerage of heaven, and to receive a coronet in the 
skies ! Now, characters of this stamp — of imperial type, 
though found in lowly homes — are invariably formed upon 
the model which Jesus Christ has presented. 

The men of true nobility who are found in almost every vil- 
lage of our land — men devoted to every thing that is good, 
opposed to every thing that is bad — are men who have deliber- 
ately enlisted in the service of Jesus Christ as his disciples, 
his imitators. They perseveringly struggle against all that 
is unworthy; they hunger and thirst for every celestial 
virtue ; they battle against temptation in whatever form it 
may come; cultivate moral courage, that they may boldly 
advocate the cause of their Saviour, amidst opposition and 
derision if need be ; and thus they are nerved to glorious 
achievements in triumphing over the allurements to sin, and 
in bringing themselves into entire subjection to their divine 
Master. 

Material grandeur of crag and cataract has its sublimity \ 



THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 499 

but there is something in moral excellence which far surpasses, 
in all the elements of the sublime, any combinations of ocean, 
earth, or shy. When a man towers above his fellow-men in 
self-denial, in devotion to the welfare of others, in the en- 
deavor to extend virtue, piety, and happiness, a spectacle is 
presented upon which angels gaze with admiration. When 
we reflect upon what we may become in social loveliness, in 
majesty of virtue, in dignity of character, we can hardly 
wonder that even the Son of God should be willing to die 
upon the cross to save such a one from the ruin of sin. Here 
below, in the midst of all man's frailties and wickedness, we 
catch glimpses of the angel dignity from which he hits fallen, 
and to which he may again soar. 

The wreck is to be repaired; the ruin is to be rebuilt. 
What a glorious creation will man become, when, redeemed, 
regenerated, created anew in Christ Jesus, he emerges from 
the fall in more than the majesty of his original grandeur, 
no longer but a " little lower " than the angels, but on an 
equality with the loftiest spirits who bow before God's throne ! 

And, oh ! it is so sad — the saddest sight of earth — to see one 
who is created of a noble nature, with glowing intellect and 
gushing affections, formed to move like a\ angel of light 
amidst sorrowing humanity, to cheer the heart-stricken, to 
strengthen the tempted, to support the weak, to win and save 
the lost, — it is, indeed, a sad sight to see such a one, all un- 
mindful of his lofty lineage and glorious inheritance, casting 
every thing that is noble away, and living miserably for self 
and sin ! Earth is full of such melancholy wrecks, as of arch- 
angels ruined. All material ruins, all mouldering turrets, and 
towers of baronial castles, — Melrose, Drr.chenfels, Heidelberg, 
— before such moral wrecks, pale into insignificance. 

There is a ship in a foreign port. The rude sailors from the 
forecastle have gone on shore to the drinking-saloon and the 
dancing-hall to spend the night in revelry and si~. But one 
has remained behind. With the moral courage of a martyr, 
he has braved the insults and ridicule of his companions. 
&nd now it is midnight. He is kneeling beside his berth in 



500 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

prayer. There is a half-closed book by bis side. Does any 
one do ubt what that book is? Is there any other book but 
the Bible which can inspire him with such moral courage as 
this ? It is from its pages that he has learned that it is bet- 
ter " to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy 
the pleasures of sin for a season." l 

Far away upon the lonely prairie, there was a settler in his 
solitary log-cabin. From his humble door-sill, nought was to 
be seen in the wide expanse of many leagues but the prairie's 
undulating ocean of grass and flowers, broken here and there 
with a clump of trees, emerging as an island from the silent 
sea. In that vast solitude there was a Christian family, im- 
poverished by misfortune, struggling to rear for themselves a 
new home: it consisted of a father, mother, and nine chil- 
dren. Death came. The mother, who had ever been an angel 
of light in her home, was stricken down by death. There were 
no neighbors to help; there was no Christian minister near 
to oifer the supports of the gospel. Sadly the father dag the 
grave; sadl}", with the aid of his weeping children, he bore 
the sacred remains to their burial ; sadly, silently, with a 
broken heart, lie filled up the grave, which entombed all his 
earthly hopes and joys. 

The evening sun was just sinking beneath the distant 
horizon of the prairie : that Christian father, in his desolated 
cabin, crushed with grief, had assembled, as had ever been his 
wont, his little household around him, to'seek the blessing of 
God. They were all bowed together upon their knees. The 
angels hovering over them could hear the sobs of the children 
and the moaning prayer of the father. 

Upon the table there was one book, — one open book, from 
which the husband and father had been reading. Can any 
one doubt what that book was ? It was opened at the consol- 
ing passage, — 

" Let not your hearb be troubled : ye believe in God ; be- 
lieve also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions : 
if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place 

l Heb. xi. 25, 



THE CnUECII IN MODERN TIMES. 501 

for you. And, if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come 
again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there 
ye may be also." l 

What words of comfort to the mourner ! precious Bible ! 
thou instructor of the ignorant, guide of the erring, consoler 
of the afflicted, supporter of the dying; thou unfailing friend 
of all the weary and the heart-crushed ; thou only hope of 
humanity, — thou art indeed God's best gift to our fallen race. 

In the natural world there is infinite variety, — room for the 
gratification of every diversity of taste. Here rise the craggy 
mountains, with their eternal glaciers, — their pinnacles, thun- 
der-riven, storm- torn, piercing the skies; there sleeps the 
placid lake, embowered in groves, fringed with blooming 
meadows, and upon whose bosom float the graceful many- 
colored waterfowl undisturbed : here extends the limitless 
prairie, an ocean of land, embroidered with flowers whose hues 
Solomon, arrayed in all his glory, could not outvie ; there 
Sahara's boundless sands in dreary desolation glisten in the 
sun ; and there the Dismal Swamp, which even the foot of the 
moccasoned Indian cannot penetrate, frowns in eternal gloom, 
— all subserving some good end, all ministering to the glory 
oi God and the good of his children. 

So in the Bible, God's Word, we find that which is adapted 
to every variety of taste, every condition of mind, every gra- 
dation of intellect and of culture. One page conducts you 
back to the pastoral simplicity of the world's infancy: you 
wander with the patriarchs as they pitch their tents and tend 
their flocks beneath the sunny skies of the Orient. Another 
page moves your soul with the sublime denunciations of the 
prophets, before which denunciations monarchs trembled, and 
empires crumbled to ruin. You turn the leaf ; and the majestic 
dynasties of the long-buried ages pass before you in sombre 
procession, with all their vicissitudes of pomp and of death, 
of revelry and of wailing. You open to another chapter; and 
your so'il is soothed with the penitential sweetness of the 
Psalms of David, whose pensive strains bring solace to your 

i John *iv. 1-3. 



502 HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY. 

soul in its hours of deepest sadness. Again your spirit is 
ennobled by the precepts of Jesus, who spake as never man 
spake ; and your whole being is inspired by the magnificent 
revelations of life and immortality brought to light in the 
gospel. 

Here is food alike for all, —for the peasant, for the philoso- 
pher, for the dairyman's untutored daughter, and for the 
profoundest philosopher who ever honored humanity by his 
intellectual achievements. Indeed, Christianity carries its 
own evidence. "If any man will do his will," says Jesus, 
"he shall know of the doctrine." 1 And again: "He that 
believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself. 2 

It is true that any child can ask questions which no philoso- 
pher can answer. The infidel, be he never so weak in mind 
and shallow in attainments, can easily present difficulties 
which no philosopher can solve. The infidel is almost in- 
variably a self-conceited man of "little learning." To him 
the remark of Lord Bacon is applicable: "A little learning 
tendeth to unbelief; but more bringeth us back to religion." 

And what is this religion of Jesus, which is ever winning 
in such increasing numbers the homage of human hearts? 
What are those principles which have undermined and over- 
thrown the proudest systems of ancient idolatry, and which 
seem to be now commanding the assent of every honest 
mind ? 

There is one God, existing as Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. • 
He is the common Father of us all ; and therefore we are 
bound to love and worship him. All men are brothers, of what- ' 
ever race, color, or condition : as kind brothers, they should 
seek to promote each other's welfare. All men have been and 
arc sinners : they should therefore repent, implore forgive- 
ness, and abandon every thing which an enlightened con- 
science teaches to be wrong. The Son of God, the second 
person in the Trinity, assumed human nature, and, by his 
sufferings and death, made atonement for sin. Salvation is 
now freely offered to all who will accept that Saviour, and 



THE CHURCH IN MODERN TIMES. 503 

honestly and perseveringly endeavor to return to a holy life. 
God's desire to save his rebellious children is so strong, that 
not only has he given his Son to die for us, but he has sent 
the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity, on a- special 
embassage to plead with us, that we may return to him. All 
who yield to these strivings of the Spirit, and, with penitence 
and faith, try to live as the Son of God by example and 
precept has taught us, will be received to heaven, and made 
eternally happy there, as if they had never sinned. All those 
who refuse and continue in rebellion will be forever excluded 
from heaven, and will be imprisoned with the Devil and his 
angels, where their wickedness will make them ever wretched, 
but where they can no longer mar the happiness of those who 
love and serve God. 

Now, these are the fundamental principles of Christianity, 
as avowed in the creeds and confessions of the overwhelming 
majority of Christians, of all languages and every narn^ 
through all the centuries. How simple and how grand ai 
these principles ! It must be manifest to every candid mind, 
that in their acceptance is to be found the only hope of our 
lost world. It is manifest that each individual can here only 
hope for any permanent happiness in this life or in that which 
is to come. In this wilderness of time, in the midst of the 
storms with which we are driven and shattered here, there 
can be no repose for the soul but in the well-founded convic- 
tion that peace is made with God through penitence for sin, 
and the cordial acceptance of salvation through the atonement 
of Jesus Christ. 

One fact is certain, — no man will deny it, — there have 
been hundreds and thousands, who, on a dying-bed, have 
mourned most bitterly, with anguish more dreadful than words 
can describe, that they have not lived in accordance with the 
teachings of Christianity. In that dread hour, gloom impene- 
trable has settled down upon the soul as the dying sinner has 
exclaimed, " The harvest is past ; the summer is ended j and 
we are not saved." l 

i Jer. viii. 20. 



304 History of ctinisTlANttf. 

Another fact is equally certain : there never was an indi- 
vidual, who, on a dying-bed, regretted that he had repented 
of sin, accepted Jesus as an atoning Saviour, confessed him 
before men, and that he had endeavored to live the life of the 
Christian. There cannot be found, in the history of the world, 
one single such case. On the contrary, there are millions — 
more than can be numbered — who have found, in the hour of 
death, that faith in Jesus has dispelled all gloom from the 
dying-chamber, and has inspired the departing soul with the 
most triumphant and rapturous joy. It is the Christian alone 
who can say with Paul, when upon the pillow of death, — 

"I have fought a good fight; I have finished my course; 
I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a 
crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, 
shall give me at that day ; and not to me only, but vnto all 
them also that love his appearing." * 

i 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8. 






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